The Colour of My Wings
by Nootardby
Summary: AU AC5 Blaze did not escape Sand Island with Pops, Archer and Edge after the ambush by Belkan planes. Now with ex-friends on opposing sides, indecision can lead to death. Only a strong resolve can carry them through. M rating due to Chapter 9.
1. Crossroads

Disclaimer: Ace Combat series is property of Namco and its associates.

A/N: Several chapters have been revised.

* * *

Crossroads

* * *

...The place our paths differ...

Sand Island Base

December 07, 2010

"There's no use talking to that blockhead Base Commander. He treated the president like a fool because of his peace policies" said Nagase.

"What about his Adjutant, Captain Hamilton?" asked Grimm.

"Right. Captain and I will talk to Hamilton, Grimm, you go let Pops and Genette know"

As the three planes taxied into their respective, adjoining hangars, they immediately noticed something odd. The hangars are devoid of life. At least a few mechanics should be on duty each time the squadron returned from sortie.

"Captain, something's wrong" Grimm noted, his left hand on the engine cut-off button to his craft and his right hand on the gun holster next to his seat.

" . . . You two go ahead. I'm heading for the armory. We might need the firepower" Blaze said.

* * *

"Captain Hamilton," Edge entered his office. "I need your help. I know the truth, the truth behind this war"

"Catch your breath, Captain. Sit down" he calmly replied from his chair with its back towards Edge and facing the window.

She did as advised and told him about the Belkan ambush.

She barely started, however, when Hamilton interjected by saying, "you don't have to know that much"

The Adjutant turned around, his uniform Osean but his shoulder bearing an alien rank of Major. Hamilton's eerie calmness and his strange rank made her back away from the desk, knocking the chair she was sitting on down behind her. Hamilton immediately trained his gun at her, immobilizing her.

"Your 'heroism' stops today right here, Wardog" he said emphasizing the "dog" as if the squadron was nothing more than animals.

Hamilton got to his feet and said, "It's fortunate that you came alone. You were the most volatile and dangerous individual of this whole base. After Bartlett, that is. May he rest in peace."

"Captain Bartlett is not dead. And you are forgetting someone"

"Blaze?" he asked. "He's the most effective -and loyal- soldier I knew. Faithful to the mission even it means shooting at fellow Belkans in that ambush. It looked authentic, right? He wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice others for the greater good, Belka's greater good."

Though that whole speech increasingly confused and shocked her, she let out no sign of them. Thinking that his words may just be a ruse to confound her, she said nothing. The door behind her opened, and Blaze walked in armed an M4A1 rifle. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her relief was short-lived however when she noticed he didn't point his weapon at Hamilton. He simply closed the door, stepped to the side and waited.

"He never mentioned that integral part of his name, did he? In fact, why don't I just tell you? Wilhelm Grunder Schulz"

She turned her head just enough to get him at the corner of her eyes. His continued silence seemed to confirm Hamilton's words.

"His uncle heads that corporation: South Belkan Munitions Factory. It switched over to Osea under his management. Convenient. A Belkan loyalist supplying the two strongest countries in the world with weapons . . . So you see, the people who you could count on are either dead or your enemy. You are alone"

She shifted back slowly as Hamilton approached her with an almost lecherous look on his face. She realized that he had a dirty motive for keeping her alive and telling her those facts which may or may not be true. Suddenly two gunshots rang out in succession from behind her. The room went dark. During that brief window of time, Nagase adeptly disarmed the distracted Adjutant and landed a bone-cracking blow to his jaws, sending him down against the table side which knocked him unconscious. While shaking her stinging right fist, she grabbed her sidearm inside the left pocket of her flight suit. However, just as she was about to kill the fallen Adjutant, she felt a gun nozzle on the back of her neck.

"Don't" Blaze said, his voice almost whispering.

"Is it true?" she asked, still holding her aim.

"Turn around slowly and walk away" he ignored her question.

She did as ordered and moved toward the door of the room; the rifle – though no longer on her skin – was still trained on her. At the door, she stopped and felt the barrel of the weapon again. Because Blaze didn't tell her to drop her gun, Nagase - betting her life that he won't shoot - wheeled around, sandwiched the rifle barrel between her right arm pits and pointed her own gun at him. Blaze caught her hand and stuck one of his fingers behind the trigger. Both were locked in a stalemate as neither can effectively use their firearms. Blaze dropped the rifle, and due to it being heavier, Nagase slightly lost her balance. In that instant, Blaze's surged forward, his right forearm on her neck, and pinned her to the door. She let out a slight choking noise.

He released his pin and his hold on her hand in response to the noise she made and said, "Leave while you still have the chance"

She trained her gun on him and asked again: "is it true?"

No reply.

". . . All those flights together, were they nothing to you? Even Chopper's death?"

He simply stood there in silence, showing no sign of fear that her finger might just twitch and end his life.

"Ke-" he started.

His words were immediately met with a hard, solid slap to the left cheek, much to Nagase's own surprise. She didn't know what made her do that. As she dashed out the door, she let out a drop of tear. She immediately wiped her eyes off, surprised again at her show of weakness. Though she long realized that her feelings towards this most recent captain had gone beyond simple admiration, it was much more than she expected. The darkness, however, prevented Blaze from noticing that liquid droplet as he himself was stunned by the burning sensation on his face.

* * *

A/N: Might be fun to make Blaze the enemy. I kidding. No, he won't be one.

The first 3 lines of conversation at the beginning of the chapter are credited to the game.


	2. The Two Demons

The Two Demons

* * *

Thanks to Peter Beagle's lead, Edge and Archer managed to escape pursuit from the 8492nd, or Grabacr Aggressor Squadron. Captain Marcus Snow, by order from Kestrel's Captain Nicholas Anderson, staged the deaths of the fleeing pilots. Because of severe air battle losses early in the war, the Osean Central Command largely ignored the carried. That added with the general's public's ignorance of the escape affair – due to the air force keeping the plight of the highly-publicized Sand Inland Squadron under wraps and without Genette publishing his stories – the ex-Wardog pilots found safe haven on board the Kestrel.

* * *

Mess Hall

ONSDF Carrier Kestrel

Kirwin Islands, Osea

December 8, 2010

"So, that's what Hamilton said..." Pops remarked after Nagase told him what happened. ". . . This had not occurred to me until now: 16 years ago right before the outbreak of war, there was an incident, or rather a tragedy. It was used as a massive propaganda tactic by the Belkan government and probably highly publicized within Osea. An Osean civilian passenger airliner from Belka's capital, Dinsmark, bound for Oured was shot down over the bay by an ONSDF cruiser, allegedly by mistake. On board were 411 passengers including the daughter of Belka's prominent political figure, Anea Grunder. Reportedly, no one survived. The Osean government never officially apologized. And to make things more interesting, the captain of that flight was her husband, Werner Schulz"

"I remembered reading it sometime ago. Grunder . . . Schulz . . ." Genette said as he tried to recall. "So you mean Blaze is-"

"Or this might be completely unrelated. There were rumors that Anea was disowned from the family for marrying an Osean. No one knows their life since then. Even if Blaze is their child, he would be just a child of maybe 10 at that time. Where would he be if not with his parents? Even if a child survived the plane's demise, it would be highly unlikely for him to survive the cold waters." Pops pointed out.

"What if he did survive? Then wouldn't the Captain be up for revenge?" Grimm asked.

"I could understand the general resentment Belkans felt after the war, but for Blaze, this might be personal, and personal issues run deep. Kids are very impressionable. Who knows who might have influenced him."

"If only hatred is in his heart, he wouldn't let me, or any of us go, at that time. I . . ." Nagase said before stopping herself.

"Nagase. . ." Grimm said.

"Now that the Grey Men are becoming more active, you pilots must be especially prepared. You might meet him in battle" Pops said.

* * *

Rural farming town, Pravenfeld

40 miles southeast of Bannion Sea

Osea

December 14, 2010

For his helping Edge escape from Sand Island, Blaze was suspended indefinitely. Hamilton played a large part in that. He was angry with Blaze for foiling his intention to have a little 'fun' with Nagase, for not stopping her from hurting him and for taunting him of being unable to defend himself from a woman, he wanted the ex-Wardog lead executed for treason. But since the Gray Men had other plans for the young pilot, he had no choice but to recommend suspension. Like always, Blaze was kept ignorant of those plans even after meeting his uncle yesterday. He didn't leave empty-handed, however. He found out about the attack by three jet-black colored planes on their nuclear stockpile on Mt. Schirm, and Ofnir squadron's defeat by the same enemy. Although those planes were the enemy, he somehow felt relieved that the Grey Men were thwarted both times.

A prop-driven plane with two large water tanks, one under each wing, was flying above the fields, dropping streams of water onto the growing vegetation. The movement of plane was smooth and tight even for an outdated propeller plane. There were no fancy maneuvers, however, just simple chandelles. Blaze's grey eyes followed the plane for a few more minutes until it landed on a small strip next to a humble wooden house. A barn with its doors open was at the dirt runway.

"What brings the poster boy of the Osean Air Force here?" the black-haired pilot dressed in a brown t-shirt and worn pair of jeans asked as he jumped off the cockpit of his plane.

"You seem well" Blaze replied.

The older man paused for a moment, looking up and down his younger counterpart, before saying: "You too, boy. You too"

The two gave each other a hug. As they let go of each other, the farmer brushed his hand across Blaze's lower left torso, conveying to him that he knows about the gun tucked underneath.

"You sure have grown, boy. Ha, of course, it's been what, since your uncle came to get you? 12, 14 years?" the farmer said, patting Blaze's shoulders. "Come on, I have some warm tea inside. The leaves are a new breed. You should try it"

"So what brings you here?" asked the farmer as he poured his guest a cup of tea.

". . . To kill you"

"Are you going to do it?" the older man asked, showing no surprise.

"No"

"Well then, what are you doing here?"

Hermann Lambert –Cipher- smiled at him and asked if Blaze wanted sugar in his tea. The younger man looked at the older in amazement, gave him a slight smile while shaking his head, and placed his gun on the table.

"Ah, modern choice, but I don't like it. Bullets' hard to find off dead bodies" Cipher remarked, alluding to his experience on the battlefield where his favourite gun was the AK-47 simply because extra clips are easy to find among corpses.

". . .Belka. . .Does it, especially its people, deserve its current plight?" Blaze asked, going directly to the point.

The question made the older man silent for a few seconds as he remembered someone in the past, his wingman Larry "Pixy" Foulke, asking a similar question that whether the invasion of Belka is truly necessary.

"My childhood," Blaze started, "my years with you; things that Grunder told me; and now during OADF service. They contradict each other. . . I never understood the complexity back then. Hermann, how did you view the war and its end? What made you fight and then disappear so abruptly?"

Cipher sighed and set down his cup.

"You know, I left combat life precisely because I couldn't come to terms with those questions. I had no answer for you. I don't know if the current Belka is best of its people. . . When we met each other, I had no idea why I took you in. Perhaps it was pity. Perhaps an attempt to satisfy my own confusion. Perhaps a Belkan can help. Perhaps I was lonely" He paused to sip his tea again.

"I can only give you this advice: If you must fight, you must have a strong, complete resolve-"

Blaze joined in and both men recited: "-even if it might be wrong. Without it, you are walking to your doom and are dooming your allies. Wars are always cruel no matter the age."

"I remember . . ."

"If you are that conflicted, why don't retire like me? It's fun, you know" Cipher joked.

Blaze managed to give him a weak smile. He remembered Cipher's trademark jokes that were always out of place. Even if it's just a little, his mentor's words helped resolve his anxiety.

He was 9 years old when he lost his parents. Due to the growing tensions between Belka and Osea, immigration between the countries – though it's predominantly immigration into Osea - was severely limited. His mother was able to get Osean permanent residence through his father after a long 6 years wait. On that fateful day, they were flying to the Osean capital for a new life. But it was never realized.

What happened between the moment when he last saw his mother's face and when he regained consciousness on a beach in Sapin, he had no memories of. His survival remained a mystery up until now. Perhaps it was happenstance. Perhaps it was divine miracle. None knew. His reminders that the incident really did happen were the burns and cuts on his body. The wounds' contact with the salt of seawater helped prevent infections, but it left him with permanent scars.

Though Blaze learned that Sapin bordered Belka, he knew no one in his homeland. There was no reason to go back. He survived ironically, due to the war. Many people near the Belka-Sapin-Ustio border who lost their homes relocated in groups. He tagged along several such groups, but none of them lasted long. His inability to speak the local language – and thus his Belkan identity discovered - caused him to be shunned away.

Fortunately, the war ended as abruptly as it started. He was ill from malnutrition and hunger when he met Cipher. The round table ace saved him, and they traveled the Osean and Erusian continents. In the two years after the end of the Belkan War that they spent together, Blaze learned many survival and self-defense skills from him. Cipher – noting the burn scars on the boy - gave Blaze his nickname so as to avoid unnecessary attention. Life was much better than being alone. It was relatively peaceful except for many close brushes with death when those who knew Cipher and wished him dead attacked them, and when they both were just stupid and angered the wrong people. But none of those in the former case survived. Cipher couldn't risk his identity known.

But then things got complicated. A man who introduced himself as his uncle found and claimed him. Of course, Blaze wanted to stay with Cipher. That made the "uncle" resort to tactics such as holding innocents hostage – one of which was a girl whom Cipher had taken a liking to – to get Blaze. Being inferior in both legal and economic aspects, Cipher had no choice but to relinquish the boy. Blaze readily accepted the decision because he wanted to protect his mentor. Grunder killed the girl anyway.

In accordance to his many ruthless schemes in achieving his goals, Grunder subjected the teenager to rigorous brain-washing techniques including the use of addictive drugs. The orphan never felt more hatred for anyone that he does for his uncle. At the same time, however, he needed Grunder. The drugs made him dependent. When Blaze finally was broken into, he underwent treatment from the drug dependence. Grunder had Blaze's loyalty so the drug dependence was no longer necessary. Then, the harsh, inhumane treatment he received was gone completely. Grunder treated him very well and educated him. The 18 year-old learned the truth of the tragedy that took his parents at this time. His hatred- and his unconditionally loyalty - fueled his involvement with the Gray Men.

Because Grunder told him of his childhood after the brain-washing, Blaze has two sets of memories: the real ones with his parents and Cipher, and the fake one with Grunder. His real memories made his temperament moderate, highly contrasting the extreme radicalism of most Gray Men members. Grunder took advantage of that fact, and of Blaze's status as an Osean permanent resident, to insert him into the country. The young man wouldn't attract as much suspicion as other Belkan operatives.

Blaze never contacted Cipher after their separation. He couldn't. He forgot all about Cipher, and the pilot moved around frequently. He learned of the 'Demon Lord' reputation only from the defeated pilots within the Gray Men. Whether fortunate or not, none of the Gray Men knew of The Demon Lord's true identity.

As Schulz admitted into the OADF trainee program, he chose Blaze as his nickname. He didn't know why initially. As he spent time in flights and away from his uncle, strange memories came back slowly.

Though the Belkan War ace never intended to teach him fighter maneuvers, Blaze flew frequently with him in the F-15 that he saw inside the barn earlier. As a result, Blaze's current flying style incorporates much of the Cipher's: effective yet simple, a style that minimizes stress on the plane thus reducing maintenance costs. Sometimes, however, it can be extremely outlandish. Nevertheless, the simplicity of the style made him unremarkable. That's why he was transferred to a backwater base like Sand Island. One person, though, took note of him: Captain Bartlett. Bartlett once asked him if he knew an exceptional pilot from the War. The instructor admitted that that pilot was the only one he wouldn't want to fight. But then, Blaze only had hazy recollections of Cipher, so he couldn't tell Bartlett anything.

Having truly remembered Cipher only recently, the Wardog lead searched for his former mentor. He found out about Cipher's current livelihood only through civilian records, and the former mercenary learned of Blaze's through news and Genette's reports. Since Cipher was the nemesis of the Belka and the Gray Men, Blaze was prepared to eliminate the ace pilot to ensure that potential enemies could not foil their plans again. But his starkly different life, the answers he gave earlier, and his kindness when they were together stopped him. His main reason for the visit was simply to see Cipher.

By this time – time which the Grey Men called "Phase Two" -, the resolve he had at the beginning of this Circum-Pacific War between Osea and Yuktobania – that Belka must be restored to its former glory, that Osea must pay for its crimes of killing his parents – had eroded due to various reasons. First, he found that most Oseans aren't war-mongering, deceitful people like he was led to believe. Second, some details of the forgotten memories that he came back to him contradicted Grunder's version of his childhood, making him doubt the person he used to completely believe in. Third, he remembered the brain-washing he was subjected to. Fourth, he met someone he cared for, though she may not know it. Fifth, the tactics the Gray Men conjured up became increasingly brutal. Though he wasn't kept in the know of their plans, he could see that as they succeeded, they became bolder. And finally, Cipher, a mentor that he respected, was someone that had fought against the very thing that Blaze fights for.

Looking across the small wooden table between them, Blaze observed that Cipher had not changed much in terms of his aura. He still had that confidence which makes those around him feel strong while at the same time intimidates those who sought to harm him. The older man seemed to develop a liking for tea, however, as Blaze couldn't remember that hobby of his during their time together.

Then, the sound of a vehicle, a pick-up truck, approaching could be heard outside. Blaze tucked the gun back under his shirt.

"They must be back. I haven't told you. I settled down. Got married, had kids, all wonderful life stuff." Cipher said.

Blaze gave him a surprised look. He never expected that from the most feared pilot in the Osean continent. He has lots of enemies and yet he attached to himself more vulnerabilities where those enemies could strike at.

Seconds later two small figures, a brunette twin brother-sister no older than 7 years old, barged through the wooden doors. They stopped after seeing a stranger in their house, but then the girl said out loud while pointing at Blaze, "young Daddy!"

He was completely caught off guard by that.

"You have Daddy's smell. Who are you, big brother?" the female of the twin asked while approaching Blaze.

"I'm impressed. They never were close to strangers that quick. Must be my influence, hahaha!" Cipher boasted.

"_This kind of life...Doesn't look bad at all"_ Blaze thought as he watched Cipher's wife, a beautiful and seemingly down-to-earth woman, entered the room, greeted him and landed her husband a kiss.

* * *

A/N: If Cipher was Demon Lord of the Round Table, and Blaze was the Razgriz Demon, why can't the demons be related somehow?


	3. Into the Dawn

Into the Dawn

* * *

Ceres Sea

December 22, 2010

Five F15S-MTD Eagles in standard V formation streaked across the midnight sky. Their destination: Yuktobania's Pobeda Peninsula. Three days ago, 3 black F-22s tried and failed to stop the Arkbirk from dropping its nuclear payload on Svetlak, a coastline city on the Pobeda Peninsula. Over half a million Yuktobanians perished. The country fell into chaos. Riots broke out in almost every city, some calling for retaliation against the genocide, some calling for immediate ceasefire. Many Osean cities also rioted in protest against their leaders' recklessness. As governments attempted to restore internal order, the war came to a standstill for a single day.

The following day, however, a combined land and air Yuke battalion, which acted independently without orders from the government, reclaimed Cruik Fortress and pushed into Jilachi Desert. Hardly anyone noticed, however, that if the Raptors did not attack, more would have perished for the bird's original target was Okchbursk, a major and densely populated city. Despite that, the damage was done. A portion of Yuke's eastern seaboard radar network and air defense were severely crippled. Now almost anything from the Ceres Sea can penetrate its airspace from that highly radioactive corridor.

The spying of Belkan nuclear stockpile at Mt Schrim in North Osea, the mountain's subsequent destruction, and Ofnir squadron's engagement with the same mysterious enemy made the Grey Men conclude that their transmissions were being monitored from within Yuktobania. As a plan to eliminate that threat, they set as bait the country's captured Prime Minister Nikanor. Those who are opposed to them would unlikely bypass the chance to rescue the pro-peace leader. Though the trap was a huge gamble, it was the only effective way of silencing the unknown enemy.

"Captain Bernitz" called one of the Eagles' pilots on a private channel. "I'm still worried about having him as an addition. I thought he was the enemy. He killed our own on that ambush"

"They are necessary sacrifices. Hamilton and Grunder vouched for him and insisted that he join this mission. That is enough" the lead of the Grabacr squadron, Ashley Bernitz, replied. "You just concentrate on your duty. If he becomes a liability, we can simply shoot him down. Even the flight lead of the famous Sand Island squadron won't be able to take all 4 of us alone."

Through the manipulations of the Grey Men, Blaze was transferred into the 8492nd after the Wardog was officially reported 'KIA'. Though the speed which Grunder Industries supplied the squadron with an improved, single-seat variant of the high performance Eagle was abnormally quick, no one noticed. Osea's radical politicians and military commanders were too preoccupied with shifting the blame of Arkbird's nuke attack, with the chaos within their borders, and with trying to deal a killing blow to their wounded, but increasingly desperate enemy. Of course, the Gray Men wouldn't let either one gain the upper hand. The shadow organization had both the governments of the superpowers Osea and Yuktobania wrapped around its fingers.

* * *

Pobeda Peninsula

Northwest of Krylo Airfield

Yuktobania

December 22, 2010

"Kurseli, is the Prime minister alright?" asked Bartlett as he drove through the blown main gate of the airfield..

"He's regaining consciousness. They injected him with some kind of drug." the resistance member replied.

"That's amazing driving. I'm getting ulcers watching them" said Grimm.

As three F-22s strafed several tanks positioned on the runway, Bartlett got into the cockpit of an outdated transport plane that the Resistance had secured. Nikanor and his assistant Major Natasya Obertas, the one who 'broke' Bartlett's heart, as well as some members of the resistance boarded the aircraft. Within seconds, the plane was taxing on the runway.

"It's been a while since I last flew this type of plane" Bartlett commented.

"How exciting. Now we are going to have an air battle?" the Major joked.

"Incoming aircraft. IFF silent . . . They might be the 8492nd" Grimm warned.

Miles away, the 5 Eagles sped towards them at Mach 2.

"One transport plane. No other radar signatures. Must be stealths. Are those really them?" Bernitz asked.

"Yes" Blaze confirmed.

"Roger. All weapons free. Leave no survivors. Aim for the cockpit"

Swordsman, Archer, and Edge moved in to engage them as far as possible from Bartlett's defenseless plane.

"Edge, what do we do? Ofnir was a struggle. Now these guys have an extra plane" Grimm asked his flight lead.

"We came expecting them. We have no choice" Snow told him.

"He is right, Grimm. Do as you have always done. We will win this, we must" Edge reemphasized their necessity for a victory.

While the three center Eagles maintained course, the flanks broke formation. The left most attempted to circle around the opposing Raptors, while the right most headed towards Bartlett. The F-22s were loaded each with 6 XMAA AIM-120 medium range missiles. They opened fire first, hoping for a quick victory. Since the AIM-120 requires active radar guidance from the mother plane for direction, the F-22s' first salvo must destroy the enemy or they will risk detection. To their luck, one of the middle Eagles suffered an engine trouble and began to trail smoke. The pilot bailed right before the AIM-120 slammed into its wounded target.

Though the rest of the planes evaded the missiles, all except one were forced into a defensive position. The two middle F-15s made 60-degree dives and the right most plane turned perpendicularly. The left most, however, continued it's heading straight into the missile. Seconds before impact, the plane turned horizontally to expose its belly to the missile. The thrust vectoring nozzles, which were angled downwards, abruptly nudged the tail of the plane in the opposite direction. The missile streaked by harmlessly parallel to the plane's fuselage. Archer watched his missile track passed through the left most enemy track without anything occurring. He concluded that the missile must have failed, and continued to fire his remaining 4 XMAAs.

As the remaining Eagles closed in, the battle turned into a dogfight. At this range, stealth wouldn't matter. The Raptors weren't invisible to the naked eyes. Furthermore, the F-15s' QAAM AIM-9X missiles could now be deployed. Even though the earlier BVR (beyond-visual-range) bombardment allowed the F-22s to position themselves at the tail of three Eagles, the chased planes had locks on their pursuers. They fired and the missiles forced two Raptors off their backs. One Grabacr moved in behind Archer. He locked and was about to fire both missile and gun when another Eagle crossed his line of fire.

"Schulz! Watch it!" he shouted, breaking away.

Blaze broke pursuit and turned to the right. Edge was chasing Bernitz perpendicularly ahead of him. He recognized her flying. With a well-timed Pugachev's Cobra and coming in from Edge's blindspot, he placed his plane streaking sideways facing away from her, blind-fired a missile at Bernitz, and shot it with guns. The splash damage from the exploded missile damaged the right engine of the Grabacr leader's plane, making it trail smoke. Edge's plane shuddered for an instant due to the Eagle's jet wash before being enveloped from the smoke of Bernitz's craft and struck by a blunt object, Blaze's left canard. The maneuver he did was so taxing for the F-15 that the left canard broke off and the left tail wing bent. The canard pierced the left air intake of Nagase's jet, just centimeters in front of the left missile compartment.

The former Wardog leader came with the resolve of freeing himself from the bonds he felt towards the Grey Men and towards his old flight mates. But he didn't know how to do this. Despite him knowing that Grunder used him like a pawn, he felt he owed Grunder too much to betray his uncle. But he also understood that the Grey Men's plans were flawed. Terror and hatred, though they are the easiest way, cannot truly restore Belka.

Within his shaking cockpit, he looked at the contrails the planes around him made against the backdrop of the dawning sky. They were almost beautiful. If only those planes were flying in times of peace. The purity of flight was tainted with mankind's war.

Blaze made his decision. Ending the battle was the only was to free him. He stalled his plane to make it point downward where he fired a stream of bullets at a Grabacr chasing Snow. The cockpit of the Eagle at the receiving end of the bullets turned red from the splattered remains of the pilot. Because the plane also was firing a couple missiles at the same time, Blaze's fire destroyed them just as they were jettisoned from the pylons. The plane disintegrated from two explosions.

Throttling the twin Pratt & Whitney F100-PW-200 turbofan engines, he got out of stall and wrestled the plane back into a 90 degrees climbing position using thrust vectoring. The Eagle was now pointing upward while still dropping. The whole plane frame shuddered in agony and the remaining canard managed to say attached through a lone bolt. Due to the extreme G forces on his body, the pilot himself coughed blood into his oxygen mask, making him gasp for air as he wrenched the clogged life support off.

None of the pilots missed the displays of exceptional spatial awareness. Shocked and awed, their minds went blank. They did nothing except fly straight. The battle seemed to enter a 'pause' as the Grabacr pilots relived the nightmare they experienced over B7R at the hands of one F-15C.

"Edge!" Snow called after noticing the smoke from Nagase's plane. "Is he or is he not our enemy, dammit!"

"I don't want to fight him. We can't win" Grimm said, his breathing becoming shallow.

"Don't give up!"

"But, but it's the captain! I know it. He was like this that one time when we were trying to save Captain Nagase. Chopper and I couldn't keep up at all. The Super Hornet he used fell apart and he had to be rescued along with Edge" Grimm said.

Nagase looked down and realized that her hands were trembling on the controls. Almost all of her cockpit's warming alarm wailed. The engines wouldn't respond, and the left missile compartment was stuck. She was losing power and altitude. Even a deadly fighter jet such the Raptor proved to be very fragile indeed. The only option for survival was to eject. She grabbed the lever and pulled.

Since his plane was equipped with a HMS-compatible system (Helmet Mounted Sight), Blaze locked on to the two surviving F-15s above him by sight and unleashed all eight missiles. The targeted planes were moving in relatively straight lines, and their pilots were still stunned by memories of B7R's Demon Lord. As a result, they couldn't evade on time. They dropped chaff and flare, but there were more than one missile homing into each plane. The countermeasures were deployed too late to have any effect. One Grabacr plane was hit on the underside of the cockpit, instantly killing the pilot. Bernitz bailed out from the remaining Eagle. The battle was over in less than a minute.

Blaze's own craft was also on its dying breaths. Due to the extreme movements performed, one AIM-9X under the right wing was stuck. The armed warhead detonated prematurely, ripping off the entire wing. Shrapnel cracked the canopy. Both the ailerons and rudders were unresponsive, and the engines were failing. Blood spots painted the cockpit consoles. Instinctively, his left hand reached for the ejecting lever. . . No response. The earlier explosion had severed wires of the ejection system. But no matter, he thought. His goal was done. Everything would be over soon. His other hand let go of the control stick as the plane stalled once again and began to plummet uncontrollably towards the ground.

* * *

A/N: I wonder if anyone in real life can do what Blaze did.

The conversations at the beginning of section 2 of this chapter are credited to the game.

To Amir: I played all styles. Though I prefer Knight, the Mercenary path is more exciting, more challenging.

To yellow: How can I graduate from "fairly well" writing and into better writing?


	4. Words Unheard

Caution: This chapter contains some language.

* * *

Words Unheard

* * *

Ceres Sea

600 km off the coast of Pobeda Peninsula

OMDF Carrier Kestrel, bridge

December 22, 2010

"What do you mean we are not going back?" Grimm protested.

"Change of plans" Pops informed him, "Andromeda just intercepted Yuktobanian transmission. They are aware about the Prime Minister. Their 4th coastal defense fleet is on course for us"

"I know the Resistance will try to rescue them. But then what? Are we just going to leave them behind?"

"I understand what you are saying, Grimm, but my decision still stands," Anderson said, "This is unlike that time when Captain Nagase was shot down. We won't have ground support from neighboring Osean territories, and I will risk neither this fleet nor the Seahawks."

"Let me fly escort then"

"I need you here to protect us. Nikanor is the key for peace. If we go down, all that we worked for will be for naught. The hope for peace will be lost. I promise you, I will get Edge out. Be patient"

Snow looked on as Grimm tried futilely to push for an immediate search and rescue mission.

"If I may," Snow started, "It seemed to me that Blaze only 'appeared' to be on our side. The two Eagles were between us and him. Since the AIM-9X he fired were heat-seeking, those two planes may well have attracted missiles aimed for us. I'm concerned about Edge. What if she encounters those Grabacr survivors?"

Snow's observation got everyone thinking. Bartlett smiled and scratched his chin in approval. Archer was about to object Snow's words but then realized his true intentions. Though he hated it, he saw that smearing Blaze's integrity might just do the trick.

"Grimm, did you see Blaze eject?" Pop asked.

"He didn't eject. I saw muzzle flashes from inside the cockpit. He broke the canopy and jumped off"

"Captain, "Pop said, "The Grey Men have proven to be experts in deception. If Blaze is not the enemy, then all is well. But if otherwise, both Captain Nagase and the Resistance movement are at risk. I suggest sending at least the Rosenberg. With the proper communications equipments, she will be able to make contact with friendly forces on the ground."

Anderson agreed and ordered the attack submarine off fleet formation.

"It will work out fine. Alright, Grimm?" Bartlett said.

* * *

Pobeda Peninsula

East of Krylo Airfield

Yuktobania

December 22, 2010

All was quiet, and dark. It's funny. Though he had accepted his fate, he never thought it would be like this. Logically, he should be surrounded by violent vibrations of his cockpit and the annoying beeping of the consoles. But the lack thereof scared him. He wished for someone, anyone, to reach out and stop him. Then, he heard voices. . . some he couldn't really hear, but one was clear: Hers…

But Blaze's decision to escape was perhaps a disastrous one. Though shrapnel had cracked the canopy and thus enabled him to shoot his way through it, he slammed onto the bent left tail wing during the daring jump from the spiraling plane. His right shoulder was dislocated, and his right forearm broke, an almost open fracture, for he can see bone barely piercing through the skin. The dislocated shoulder could be fixed but that would risk moving the broken bones. The pain was verging on unbearable. And to make matter worse, he failed to secure to his body the survival bag containing emergency supplies such as the first aid-kit, a back-up radio, rations, water packets, flares and spare handgun magazine. The collision with the tail wing made him drop the bag and also the handgun from his right hand.

Only two energy bars, a 100 mL pouch of water and an emergency transponder-radio - which broadcasts on all international frequencies - already in the pockets of his flight suit remained. How pathetic, he thought. He was supposed to be the knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel in distress. But he didn't know where Edge landed and his sorry plight made him the one in need of help. Nevertheless, staying in one place helped no one. He turned on the transponder. That will attract the attention of their, if any, pursuers. Even if this place were to be his last, he must keep moving and hope that the enemy would follow him instead of her.

* * *

The sound of Archer's and Swordsman's jet engines had vanished. Edge sighed. She knew that disappearing sound all too well. This was the second time she was downed. Both of those times were over the same country, and within the span of two months. If she were to survive this, she would have broken the world record for shot down pilot survivability rate in the Circum-Pacific War. Of course, her previous experience prevented her from underestimating the gravity of her situation. But unlike that last time where she had to wait for rescue, this time bad weather wouldn't hinder her, and more importantly, Bartlett had told her about a Resistance camp located about 7 clicks northwest of her position. She could also assume that he had informed the Resistance about her, but she was never one to wait. However, there were a couple of problems. First, she must actually get to the camp safely, and second, Blaze bailed out too. She watched him jump off his plane in such a foolish way that she knew he must be injured. If the winds didn't blow him off, he should have landed east of me, she thought while looking at the spare map from the flight suit.

Suddenly, a branch broke behind her. She tensed. The enemy must have seen Blaze's and her parachutes but they couldn't have been so quick in tracking her. Looking back around the tree where she was taking cover behind, she noticed that it was only a deer. Though the mountain range was only sparsely forested, it had somewhat tall grasses as well as shadow cast by the hilltops. She could use both of them as cover.

About a click of trekking later, a nearby gunshot suddenly rang out. A second one followed closely after. Edge dropped into a prone position and looked in the direction of both shots. However, the morning mist and shadow blocked her view. She thought she heard something that sounded like a voice, but the cries of startled birds masked that voice. The rational part of her told her to stay away, but another wanted to check out the source. Why? Because those sounds were made by an M9, a standard issue handgun for OADF pilots - pilots such as Blaze.

After a short crawl, she was sure that she was within sight range of the source because part of the same flock of birds from before was still circling overhead. But there was nothing in sight, at least not above the grass level. She feared the worst. At least two Grabacr pilots bailed out too, and they should also be armed with M9s.

"_What if Blaze? . . . No!"_ she convinced herself, and carried on.

Then, behind the cover of tree trunk, Edge noticed the color of an Osean flight suit. She circled around in an attempt to identify the person before actually moving closer. But before she got a clear view, the grass beside her shifted. She snapped her sidearm towards it and found herself staring at the barrel of another weapon of the same model.

"Wil-" she breathed out at the same time as he said, "Kei-"

"What are you - doing here?" he said, pain evident in his voice as he dropped his aim.

She moved closer. His face bore bruises as if he had been in a fight. There were also droplets of blood in the vicinity. His broken bone had pierced the skin, and the whole arm was mangled in such a way that would make anyone cringe. Worried, she broke cover and moved to a kneeling position to his right.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"No, stay dow-"

A tracer wheezed past above the grass line and struck Edge. She fell backwards, her eyes wide open in shock. This was the first time she was shot.

"No, no. No!" Blaze shouted.

As adrenaline masked the pain of his broken arm, he dragged himself towards her while his good hand unloaded the entire clip of Bernitz's Baretta into the shadows at the direction of the shot.

"_Motherfuckers!!!_" he cursed when the gun ran dry.

A few seconds of AK-47 retaliation ensued.

"Kei! Kei, can you hear me?" he asked the person underneath him while bullets streaked by above, narrowly missing him.

She blinked, focused on him and gave a nod. When the shots stopped, their assailants began shouting in Yuktobanian, revealing their identities to the two pilots. This search party must have heard the gunshots during Blaze's fight with Bernitz. But the knowledge that they were Yuke soldiers had no use. The pilots were outgunned, outmanned, and surrounded.

"It's a clean wound to your shoulder. Does it hurt?" he whispered.

"Feels . . . hot"

"Run, there's still time. I'll cover you" Blaze said as the Yuke soldiers approached.

She stayed silent as she gave him a smile and wrapped her arms around his body.

"You shouldn't have come, stupid . . ." he softly said.

"I lov-" they both confessed but rifle fire, echoing through the mountain range, drowned their words.


	5. Stories, Dreams, Reality

Stories, Dreams, Reality

* * *

Fifteen years ago, after the Belkan War, the international community met in Directus, Ustio's capital, to draft a series of laws concerning humane treatments of prisoners of war. These laws became popularly known as the Directus Convention. It threatened harsh punishments and sanctions, which will be enforced by every signer nations, against anyone who breaks the provisions of the agreement. It was part of an attempt to discourage future outbreaks of war. The Yuktobanian soldiers in search of Nagase should have followed the protocols, taken her and Blaze prisoners instead of killing them. But the female pilot realized that this Circum-Pacific war bore such atrocities that no mere ink and paper could stop the hatred each side had against the other.

Edge couldn't remember how long they were shot at. It seemed to have been an eternity, but she couldn't feel anything. Blaze was still covering her. Maybe the very first volley had killed them. But his breathing informed her that they were still alive. As tracers from multiple directions crisscrossed above her, she realized that the ones being shot at were the Yuke soldiers.

"Edge?" said a voice leaden with Yuktobanian accent after the gunfire died down. "Are you there? Are you alright?"

She didn't respond. It could be a trap. But, there was no use for doubts as they would have died one way or another. In addition, Blaze had fallen unconscious. She signaled to them by lifting an arm above the grass line. A couple of their possible benefactors approached, and Edge saw that they were wearing Yuke army uniforms. They cringed, much like what she did, when they noticed Blaze's arm.

"I'm Yakov, of the Resistance. Are, are you alright?" the soldier asked, kneeling down and pulling Blaze off her while the other soldier kept his rifle trained on the male pilot.

"He is not an enemy" she said. "How did you find us?"

"Followed the search party. Are you strong enough to move?"

"Yeah," she grunted as she got onto her feet.

Other than the two near her, there were 2 more Resistance members patrolling the perimeter. At least 5 bodies of Yuke soldiers littered the area with one coming to just within steps from the spot where Edge thought would be her deathbed. Despite their help, however, she could see in the faces of the Resistance members that they regretted killing their own countrymen. She would feel the same way if she were forced to kill a fellow Osean.

"We lost contact with camp about a few hours ago. Something must have happened. We will seek shelter at friendly village north of here. Hope nothing happens to that place too" Yakov said.

"Hey," transmitted one of the patrolling soldiers through the radio, "I found another one here. Male Osean, dead. Gunshot wounds. There's nothing on him except two radios. One is active"

Edge, while taping bandages around her shoulder, approached the soldier's position where she finally identified the wearer of the Osean uniform she saw earlier. Bernitz lay awkwardly against the bottom of the tree trunk, bullet wounds to the side of the head and torso. His face was also somewhat disfigured. He had Blaze's radio in his left hand.

"He will be found eventually. Let's go" she said.

* * *

. . .

"_If you are trying to anger me, it's not working" I shouted into the mist._

_. . . Wait, shout? What is this . . . I see. This was back then . . ._

"_I'm just telling you the truth" Bernitz's voice echoed back._

"_No, you are lying" _

"_This is the problem with you Grunders. Too idealistic, won't see reality, can't see truths beyond your own. Your grandfather brought Belka ruin, your uncle is compromising our plans with his indecisiveness, and you betrayed us. A whole line of traitors"_

"_I'm doing the right thing. This will not save our homeland"_

"_Belka has no future. Look at what it is now. A lifeless land controlled by money-hungry corporations"_

"_Then what are we fighting for?!" I raised my voice and kicked him from behind. "What have we been fighting for?"_

"_Naïve!" Bernitz said as he swung his gun around._

_I kicked it off before he could pull the trigger._

"_Then, tell me. What have I been doing?" I straddled the Grabacr leader and started choking him using my good hand._

_Bernitz gasped for breath before he suddenly grabbed my broken arm and twisted it, causing the bone to pierce the skin. It almost made me lose consciousness and allowed him to reverse our positions where he began a series of punches to my face. Something probably broke. But the constant blow to my head my senses and kept me from thinking._

"_Simple, pure revenge. Nothing more. Grunder rallied us with that foolish hope of a restored Belka, but" he ceased his punches and began strangling me, "he knew that it couldn't be done. Most of us come to realize that as time passed. But we have gone too far to . . ." _

_Time seemed to slow as my vision blurred and Bernitz's words became silent. My other arm flailed in panic. But then, I felt something. Within the grass. I grabbed it, and fired. _

"_You . . ."Bernitz breathed out._

_Another shot to the head ended him. The dead man fell onto the tree trunk to their side. As I stared into his life-less eyes, a strange anger came over me. I began slamming my fist into his face, breaking his nose, squashing his eyes, and probably knocking his teeth in._

_. . . _

* * *

Resistance village

14 clicks north-northeast of Krylo Airfield

Yuktobania

December 22, 2010

An elderly woman descended the stairs to her basement, carrying two bowls of soup and glasses of water on a tray.

"You should take a rest" she suggested.

"Thank you. But I'm fine" Edge replied.

Nagase kept the woman at the corner of her eyes as she placed the tray on a simple wooden table next to Edge and checked the oil lantern on the table. For the past hours, the elderly lady had been sheltering both pilots under her home. Even when a Yuke army search party scoured through the village, she took great pains to cover up for them. Edge, of course, felt indebted to her, but the woman's somewhat quirky personality and fondness of divinations and tarot card readings kept the pilot on alert.

"Is there something wrong with me?" Nagase asked after feeling the woman's gaze on her.

"You are very pale. How much have you given him?" the woman asked, referring to the blood transfusion Edge gave Blaze.

"Just enough."

"You must really love him"

"Wh, . . . I think I do" she confessed.

"Aren't you afraid? That something like this might happen again and you can't help him?"

"I,I'm sorry" Edge hesitated as she was uncomfortable sharing such personal things with her.

"Forgive me, my dear. I was nosey," the woman said. "But . . . Stories are nice, but when you realize that it is a story, it might disappear."

"What?"

"Oh, ho, ho. I must be spouting nonsense again. I'll leave you alone now"

Edge was left wondering about those enigmatic words of hers. They sounded harmless but they sent a chill down her spine. Her thoughts were cut short when a dizzy spell came over her. Intermittently in half hour intervals for the past 8 hours, she had been transfusing Blaze her blood. They were both A+ so there no complications should arise.

There hasn't been any response from the Kestrel fleet either for almost half a day. She knew that Pobeda's mountains and hills were blocking her radio signals, and any attempt on her part to make contact would not only be futile but also reveal her position to any hostiles who might be monitoring the airwaves. Nevertheless, the fact that the fleet had not made any contact with her was strange. They could either be in trouble or had abandoned her altogether. Even if the latter is true, she had no complains. If Nikanor and Harling can convince the people of both nations, the war could end. That would be enough compensation. But, what if the Kestrel was attacked and sunk? Harling left the ship to prevent making the Kestrel a sweet target. But now, with one leader of the superpowers onboard, the carrier had become one such target. Harling, whose efforts had managed to bring some order in Osea, would have waited in vain. Hard-line Yuktobanian leaders would not cooperate for peace. Despite those worries, however, fatigue from the tumultuous day kept Edge calm.

As the silence of the room seemed to intensify, she began humming. It was a soft-sounding, almost melancholy melody that her late mother used to sing to her. Eventually, her singing trailed off as she fell asleep. Only the flickering of the oil lantern's flame disturbed the otherwise still room.

Blaze opened his eyes. He watched the fragile-looking person next to him, curled against the wall hugging her legs. The male pilot had already regained consciousness dozens of minutes before, but couldn't face her, or at least an awake version of her. He still remembered that stinging sensation of his face caused by her slap. Even his attempt to save her resulted in her being almost killed. And how should he explain for everything that he, and the Grey Men, had done? If anyone deserves to be convicted for crimes against humanity, it would be them.

Bernitz's words that what the Grey Men has been doing was just revenge angered him initially. Now, it depressed him. Like so many people, he never bothered to find the whole truth. Like so many, he allowed himself to be used. Like so many, he just flowed along with the tides of life. And like some, he opted for death as a means of escape. If given a second change, he swore to change all that. But, even after those realizations, there was nothing that he could do. His betrayal of almost everyone left him without allies. And more importantly, the damage on his arm has compromised his ability to fly. A fighter pilot without wings is useless.

Pain foiled his attempt to get up. He looked at the wounded appendage and recalled Edge's medical experience. Bartlett once complained to him - during one of the flight instructor's drunken stupors – about the female pilot's crazy flying and that she should have stayed in the army as a medic. Then, out of the blue, she decided to join the air force. The top army doctor at the time had noticed her talents and even tried to block her transfer. But her well-known stubbornness overcame that and got her into the flight training program.

As the male looked at her, he realized that he knew very little about her. Most of those he do know he heard from others. To others, their relationship would appear only as 'colleagues,' nothing more. Despite that lack of commitment on his part, she still admitted her love just now. How should he respond to that? What, really, drew him to her? Looks? Ability? Personality? All of the above? Possibly.

A second, more careful attempt got him sitting up. He reached with his good hand and touched her cold cheek. He stole that touch once before on one of Sand Island's hospital beds. She was recovering from hypothermia caused by the harsh weather from when she was shot down the first time. But unlike that time, this time she abruptly slapped his hand away and pointed her sidearm at him.

"I'm, I'm sorry" Edge said, quickly retracting the weapon.

"It's okay. I'm glad you are on edge" he said, drawing a chuckle from her even though he never intended it to be a joke.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine"

". . . I'm sorry" she said again

"Why? For what?"

"Your arm . . . You might not be able to fly again, at least not as well."

". . . Thank you"

That surprised her.

"Maybe this is for the better. I have done enough damage"

'I still want to fly with you' were the words she wanted, but couldn't bear, to tell him. They remained silent for the next few moments, looking at each other. Somehow, they felt no need to explain why they did what they did earlier that day. Being in each other's company seemed to be explanation enough.

" . . . –berg. Raz- One. Ed-" Edge's radio suddenly crackled to life.

After Blaze gave her an approving nod, she cautiously climbed out of the basement. The immediate room - an unlit living room - was filled with same aroma of the elderly woman's soup. A strange chanting could be heard from her bedroom.

Edge approached the nearest curtained window and listened to the radio once more. As she switched among frequencies, the buzzing of one channel changed in pitch.

"Rosenberg to Razgris One. Edge. Are you receiving over?" said a male voice.

"Edge to Rosenberg. Say again"

"Shit, it connected. Hey Lieuten . . ." the operator trailed off.

"Rosenberg. Edge, respond" said another voice.

"Loud and clear. Lt. Great to hear from you"

"Same here. We've been trying for hours to secure a comm satellite. But even that didn't work until now . . . Don't worry, the channel's secure. Are you okay?" Lieutenant Winters, Rosenberg's captain, asked to which he received a positive response. "I have notified Kestrel. Seahawk evac is enroute. We are bringing you back. Hang tight"

* * *

A/N: Wanted to write Bernitz-Blaze dream scene in German, but I'm not fluent enough. Need to spend much more time on Rosetta Stone. Did you guys watch the Olympics Opening? Awesome. Pity, that little girl wasn't the one singing the song. The actual singer "wasn't cute enough," my ass. Well, at least the truth came to light.


	6. Eye of the Storm

Eye of the Storm

* * *

Pacific Ocean

OMDF Carrier Kestrel

Brig

December 23, 2010

Almost a day has passed since Blaze was confined inside Kestrel's brig. Though he anticipated an interrogation, he never expected it to be as brief and hassle-free as he thought it was. Perhaps the reason for such unremarkable interrogation was Edge's testimony. Maybe an even bigger reason was that the Kestrel's was no longer an official military vessel recognized by the Osean military. She only has Harling's orders to go by. Furthermore, since her suspension from active duty due to lack of planes and pilots, many of the crew and three most powerful of her escorts – a Ticonderoga-class AEGIS cruiser and two Hatakaze-class missile destroyers - were transferred to other fleets and bases. Thus, the entire carrier fleet was seriously undermanned and underpowered. Prosecuting Blaze right now would just be a waste of effort.

Despite that, however, most of the fleet's personnel still regarded him an enemy. Even his value as a 'living' prisoner-of-war was largely based on his involvement with, and small knowledge of, the Grey Men. Given that fact, it was strange that he was still alive after he had told them whatever little he knew. He received fair accommodations and medical treatments. Visits to his solitary confinement weren't limited either.

However, another peculiar thing bothered him. The testimonies of Ofnir squadron's survivors, and the record that Captain Snow was the only first-hand witness on the demise of Sand Island 'traitors' made the Grey Men suspect Kestrel's involvement. Their suspicions proved true when the ship set sail on the eve of the operation to rescue Nikanor. Since the Yuktobanian government – who were still preoccupied with domestic troubles – couldn't be counted on, the Grabacr was sent to stop them. But that failed. The Grey Men couldn't pass on the chance to take the Yuke politician and the only remaining Osean carrier fleet out. The fact that nothing has happened worried Blaze.

Nevertheless, Anderson took an extra precaution in protecting Nikanor. The fleet plotted a course down Cape Landers, through Forster Bay and along the southern coastline of Osea to get within the shortest distance for air travel to Oured. Though the water route was slower, it would be less risky than directly airlifting Nikanor. Even with the escort of Kestrel's remaining 4 pilots – Heartbreak One, Edge, Swordsman, and Archer -, they wouldn't be able to protect the Prime Minister if the Grey Men launched an interception. A naval engagement carried a better survivability rate.

As Blaze stared past the corner of his bunk into a dark corner of the cell, the door suddenly opened. The guard, after unlocking the door, was about to return to his station when Nagase knocked him out cold and grabbed his M4A1 rifle.

"Everything's ready. Come on," she whispered.

Blaze hurried to the corridor, his eyes straining to adjust to the sudden light. Grimm was waiting at the first corner leading out of the brig section of the ship.

"No one saw us" he said as Nagase and Blaze passed him.

The two Kestrel pilots had mapped out their escape route. Within minutes, they reached the hangars a couple of floors up. One technician was carrying out maintenance on a plane. Nagase snuck up behind and struck him using the rifle butt. After the coast was clear, Grimm headed for the launch control hub on the port side of the flight deck. Blaze got into the cockpit of a fully-fueled F/A-18C equipped with 3 external tanks, started its engines and taxied onto the elevator. The moment Nagase pressed the 'up' bottom on the elevator control, the hangar's alarm blared.

By the time the elevator ascended to the flight deck, activity on the ship had intensified. Blaze taxied onto the catapult Grimm had pressurized. A spotlight from the carrier's island focused on the Hornet. A few marines emerged and aimed their weapons at both Nagase and the F-18's cockpit.

"Captain Nagase, stand down!" shouted one soldier.

"Hurry," she said, handing him her rifle, "be careful"

"Thank you" he replied before closing the cockpit.

They kept their gaze at each other for one short second.

"I've raised the blast screens. Say the word" Grimm radioed.

"I owe you one, Grimm" he said, closing the canopy and throttling the plane's engines to the max.

"Good luck, sir" the young pilot said right before he pressed the launch button.

With a single 'whoozing' sound, the lightly-armed Hornet was flung at over 750000 N of force. Edge ducked as the right wing of the plane sped past above her. As she and Archer watched the jet plume of the plane disappear into the night sky, they convinced themselves that they had done the right thing. When they visited him at his cell, he was so serious about needing to get to Sudentor that it convinced them despite the consequences. In addition to assisting an enemy, Nagase and Grimm had assaulted a guard, a mechanic, and a launch control officer. Such actions are punishable by death.

However, despite any lingering doubts Edge possibly has, she couldn't undo what she had done. The main thing she's worried about was Blaze's flying ability. His wounded arm made controlling both the control and throttle sticks impossible. But as long as there aren't battles, he should be fine.

* * *

OMDF Carrier Kestrel

Interrogation Room

Grimm glanced anxiously at Nagase, then to the person across the table from them – Bartlett - and then back to Edge. About 10 minutes has passed before the flight instructor came into the room. Then he simply seated himself down, lighted a cigarette, and remained silent as he looked at them. He would occasionally scratch his chin and head, but other than that, nothing of interest transpired.

"Uh, Captain?" Grimm asked.

"Two smart-ass alecks, what have you learned while I was gone? Tricks on how to break a prisoner out?" Bartlett finally spoke.

Edge remained silent while Archer nervously swallowed.

"If he is a friend, we don't have to worry. If he's an enemy, our location and heading will be compromised, forcing us to get Nikanor out quickly. BUT since you guys are 2 out of Kestrel's remaining 4 pilots, we will have to send you out also to better the chance for success. Either way, it's our loss to imprison or kill you. Smart, smart, very smart"

"You helped Pops during the war." Grimm pointed out.

Bartlett sighed as he too was guilty with abetting a Belkan pilot.

"How much do you trust him?"

"Very" Nagase replied almost instantaneously.

"Grimm?"

"I feel the same way"

"Well then I'm happy with that"

Archer and Edge watched dumbfounded as cigarette smoke wafted up the flight instructor's face.

"What? That's all? What's the point of all this?!" Nagase asked, sounding almost angry.

Any military superior should know that if he was unable to enforce rules, he would appear weak and risk losing the respect of his subordinates. Letting Edge and Archer go after such treason set a bad example to the rest of the ship's crew. It can lead to mutiny as well as further insubordination.

"We are leaving for Oured in 20, no matter what Blaze does. So in short I'm just killing time locking you in here." Bartlett replied, giving a slight smirk. "Given the circumstances, Anderson saw little reason to pursue this matter. This crew will respect their captain's decisions. Besides, Private Jenkins, Lieutenant Parker and Chief Chen suffered no significant injuries. After hearing Blaze's testimonies and seeing your apparent faith in him, I see no fault in the Captain's decision. Pops even argued that the benefits of letting him go might outweigh the risk"

"How so?" Grimm asked.

"I have no idea. Perhaps it's his faith in a fellow Belkan. Also, since the SOLG data and all the evidence we have against the Grey Men will go public once Harling and Nikanor meet, a final confrontation might be unavoidable. But if Blaze is on our side, he might do something that would make battle unnecessary"

"Why wait until Harling and Nikanor meets?"

"There's a risk that we won't be able to convince the people of both nations unless the two leaders are the ones delivering that message"

"Do you trust Blaze, sir?" Nagase asked.

". . . Maybe" Bartlett said as he started to leave the room. "Oh, if you think you are off the hook, you aren't. A court martial awaits you both after this ends. So, don't die. And don't try to escape either"

* * *

A/N: Comparing the size of Osea and Yuktobania to US and Russia, both of the former look much, much bigger than the latter. US must at least occupy the whole of North America. Russia probably needs additional territory equal that of China's. Then again, if NATO and Soviet Union had respectively coalesced into a single nation, the world would be similar to Ace Combat's. I wonder if we are fortunate that it didn't happen.


	7. Crimson Eve

Crimson Eve

* * *

Sudentor

Grunder Industries HQ

North Osea

December 24, 2010

Edge and Archer risked their careers and lives to help me. _It's only fair, _Blaze thought_, that I risked mine too._ Being confined in Kestrel's brig was out of the question, not while he can still do, or at least try, something. If any of the Grabacr survivors managed to contact HQ and alert the Grey Men of Blaze's betrayal, he was prepared to offer them information on the Kestrel and Nikanor in exchange to speak with Grunder. If that failed, he would fight his way through. But fortunately, everything has gone much better than expected. He was immediately granted clearance to land, hinting that his betrayal has yet to be compromised.

Almost the whole of Sudentor is owned by the Industries. But the outside world knew only about the factories, offices, and defenses built above ground. For the past years, the nearby mountain was bored through, and an extensive, 5-storey tunnel network built underneath it. Blaze had visited Sudentor 4 times prior to this but he has never gone below level 1. So, when Grunder ordered that he be escorted down to B4, he grew anxious. The place also seemed to be quieter than usual. Perhaps he wasn't as safe as he thought he was.

A short walk down the corridor and a right at the intersection later, he entered Grunder's office which overlooked a control room with a large LCD screen displaying the world map, and the telemetry of three icons, one of which was shaped like the White Bird.

"-must be able to do something else. There's no reason to go with - . . . Yes, yes, it's all over the news . . . Oh, for God's sake, don't you people realize the consequences of this?! . . . I see – then this argument is pointless" Grunder slammed the handle of the video phone into its monitor, breaking both of them. "Ein haufen idioten!!"

The white haired Industries leader, with his elbows on the desk, covered his face and closed his eyes. He looked worn and stressed out.

"Sir, we have brought him" said one of the guards.

Grunder did not say anything for the next dozen seconds. He glanced at the sling which supports Blaze's broken arm before saying, ". . . Did you check what's under that arm?"

"I apologize" said the guard after finding a handgun within the bandages.

"Leave us"

As soon as the armed men left, the older man got up and walked to the glass screen overlooking the control room behind him. He remained silent.

"Bernitz told me. That Belka has no future. Do you truly think so?" Blaze asked, moving closer to the desk.

"Harling and Nikanor met" Grunder said, ignoring the younger man. "You failed"

"I know you heard me" Blaze said, ignoring the other person's comment too.

" . . . I'm a visionary, Wilhelm. The past is of no consequence to me. Belka is beyond salvation. It is nothing but a frigid, lifeless land controlled by corporations. This war may be revenge for some, but for me it isn't as petty as that. Kingdoms fall, city-states rise. City-states crumble, nation-states rise. The cycle goes on as great powers emerge out of the ashes of nation-states. Look at what the concept of 'nationality' did to us: conflict, war, death, destruction! I'm striving to eliminate that. I'm trying to move humanity to the next stage: global unity. Imagine a world where no one is called Osean or Yuktobanian, but simply 'humans'."

"That's conceited. Your utopia isn't realistic and it can't be created on top of blood, the blood of all those who died in this war"

"Oh no? Look at history. Each progress humanity makes is based upon the ridiculous dreams. More importantly, those progresses are built upon the sacrifices of people. History's so drenched with blood that it can't progress without it."

Although his words made sense to Blaze, the pilot couldn't justify the killing of so many just to realize the ambition of one man. The lives of millions in this world cannot the treated like a game. If anything, Grunder was just trying to rationalize mass-murder.

"Look at you. You betrayed the Grabarc and it made you stronger. You couldn't have summoned the courage to return here."

"You knew yet you allowed me in. How much of this is a game to you? What is your intention?"

"Not killing you. I don't wish to see the Grunder bloodline end. We have what it takes to change the world. If the Grabacr is needed to make you stronger, then so be it."

"Arrogance will be the end of you" Blaze spitefully said.

"Whichever way you wish to dismiss it doesn't change that fact. We belong on the same side, Wilhelm. Don't you see that? The world considers, sees, us as the enemy. You have nowhere else to go."

Grunder had always been an eloquent, charismatic speaker skilled at manipulation and subtle coercion. Even if what he said is fundamentally wrong, his listeners are more likely to agree with him that not. His oratory ability was one skill that rallied many to the Grey Men's cause and perhaps also indoctrinated them. That might explain the lapses in Blaze's memory. After all, words are powerful.

Nevertheless, Blaze knew what the older man was hinting at. He should have realized this a long time ago: He had committed war crimes. Even if he were to surrender, he would most likely be killed. The pilot would be lucky if he receives a trial by law, but even that would simply end up in a guilty verdict and his subsequent execution. Who was he trying to fool? Trying to convince Grunder to atone? Will doing so make his past crimes go away? No. After all, why try save the world when you are just going to be killed by that same world?

"Osean and Yuktobanian forces will be here soon. This place and everyone here are done for. I accept that"

". . . You are not telling me everything"

"The more enemies we lure, the more casualties they will suffer. SOLG will make sure of that"

"You can't hide forever. Like you said, the world is our enemy now"

"No, but the others will carry on. You didn't know this but our organization is a collective of three factions. Mine was the biggest, yes, but not the only one. There are other two leaders, and each of us acted independently for the same goal. Nikanor and Harling knew only about this faction. I will gladly be the scapegoat"

"- and take as many as you can down with you. How many more must die? Don't do this . . . let's surrender, together."

Grunder scoffed.

"Don't patronize me. I know how this world functions" he briefly said before changing the subject. "You already know about the SOLG, but it's nothing compared to Treibel. Adolfine's faction controls it. An orbital platform equipped with two electromagnetic field generators. It was designed 15 years ago to work in conjunction with Excalibur, to bend the beam around the curvature of earth. Destruction of the laser foiled the plan. But the generators have another use: it can disrupt other orbiting objects and send them down to earth."

"What? But that would kill- How could you-" Blaze stuttered as he realized the sheer amount of space debris orbiting the planet.

"I realize that using it was too premature. The potential damage to Earth will be staggering. I have protested against it. But letting the enemy's attack may yet be the greatest distraction. As they are preoccupied here, Treibel and White Bird can-"

"One of those icons on that screen is Treibel, right? Stop them! You yourself don't want that weapon used"

Grunder turned around for the first time and looked at his nephew.

"I would if I could. Like the White Bird, Treibel is controlled directly onboard. This is just a monitoring station. . ."

"You are telling me all this for a reason"

". . .There's another way. I would have said this earlier if it weren't for your injury"

"Out with it"

"Here's the keycard to B5. There's an aircraft there. You repel the Allies' attack, I will convince Kruntz and Adolfine to stand down. It's your choice"

The younger man went silent immediately. He was only an individual, and with an injured arm, he can't possibly take part in a battle. He looked back at Grunder. The older man had already turned around again, observing the big screen of the control room below him. Blaze realized that his uncle had yet again tried to manipulate him by presenting that 'offer'.

"Why me? You have other pilots"

* * *

Level B5

Grunder Industries HQ

When Blaze first saw the black-colored plane, he began to understand why Grunder didn't answer him. The ADF project was so top-secret that few had knowledge of it, perhaps not even the other two leaders of the Grey Men. The fact that the largest faction of the Belkan organization controlled only the SOLG, not the Treibel, was strange. The FALKEN tipped the scale in favor of Grunder in case a power struggle occurred.

Despite his precarious circumstances, however, Blaze couldn't help but be mesmerized by the plane. Its design was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Even before getting into its cockpit, he had to don a black, futuristic-looking g-suit complete with a helmet which can monitor his brain activity.

The solid canopy closed, enveloping him in darkness for a few seconds. It was so dark that he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. The lack of light made the plane's steady, soft hum noticeable. A single hexagonal LCD screen then lit up in front of him bearing the Grunder Industries logo. It was immediately followed by the words: "ADF-01 FALKEN. Lunaire IOS Ver 4.66 booted. Niflheim Pack 02 detected. Pilot biometrics recognized: Wilhelm Schulz. Starting up…" Blaze realized then that the onboard software was programmed to accept only him. Otherwise, the plane's Intelligent Operating System had to be rewritten from scratch for another pilot. Such restrictive design was intended to increase compatibility between the OS and the pilot. As the OS learns, it would be able to predict the pilot's possible next move and assist accordingly in times of emergency, thus reducing response-time lag.

Right after those introductory words, more hexagons propagated from the initial one, letting a view of the outside. The cockpit controls lit up in blue hues. A keyboard slid from the side of the left console and positioned itself just above Blaze's knees. The right monitor - located just next to the central oval screen showing the aircraft's immediate surroundings– bore the words "Hello, Wilhelm"

"How intelligent are you?" Blaze asked.

"I'm incomplete. I hope our time together can make me grow . . ."

As Blaze briefly scanned through the plane's systems during the start-up sequence, his eyes grew wider and wider in awe. The basic FALKEN already boasts all-round performance above that of the best planes in existence. But the Niflheim Armor Pack 02 – installed around the rear and the belly of plane- improved that performance even more and grants the plane trans-atmospheric flight capability. The resulting bulkier plane size and lack of missiles, nevertheless, is easily compensated by the mod's cutting-edge systems and additional armor protection.

With the Pack, the aircraft was now powered by a miniature nuclear reactor that can fully utilize the twin Erwartung AX-01N/T hybrid nuclear pulse/ turbofan engines. It also has two extra power packs for the Walkure tactical laser cannon; additional memory and RAM for the experimental Lunaire IOS; life-support; ablative gel discharge pod; and a compact ED2 electromagnetic field generator. Such improvements may seem overkill for a plane already equipped with the TLS, but they are necessary for the FALKEN to protect – or engage - the White Bird, SOLG and Treibel in space. The 'Niflheim' line was designed more with "engage" intention in mind. Even after all these, however the whole project works only in theory. Actual usage might end up in a catastrophic failure.

Blaze's heart rate increased and his healthy hand shivered at the control stick. Such power in the hands of one person is dangerous. Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, he remembered a quote by one former Osean president: Anyone can withstand adversity, but if you want to test someone's character, give him power. Does he have the character for this kind of power? What should he do to prove he is worthy of the power? Remain with the Grey Men? If so, how long can he keep killing people? Grunder's words sounded too sweet, and his goals too noble, to resist. But the cost of his dream is too great. Blaze, having served with the Sand Island personnel, no longer believed that the end justifies the means.

The platform the FALKEN was on had been raised to an angle. The plane was now pointing at a launch tunnel to the surface. He stared at the night sky at the end of the mentioned tunnel and pushed the throttle stick. The moment the plane cleared the tunnel, hundreds of contacts were registered on the radar screen, a large proportion of them approaching from the south and west. Some of the Industries' fighters of F-22s and TYPHOONs were already up in the air.

Looking at the radar screen in front of him, the pilot made a decision. He pointed the nose of the plane up at 78 degrees from the horizontal and pushed several LCD buttons on the left and right consoles to initiate the take-off procedure. FALKEN's canards and tail rudders locked. The humming of the nuclear pulse engine intensified as the exhausts began emitting small, powder-like, red flares. Blaze could feel his body being pushed into the seat harder and deeper compared to a usual climb. At maximum acceleration, he should reach the upper thermosphere in 30 minutes. Whether that's enough time, he did not know.

Suddenly, everything went dark, much like when he first got into the cockpit. The unique sound of the engines was gone. Even the steady, soft hum from when the plane was starting up was gone. _I should have expected this,_ Blaze thought. Grunder wasn't known to be trusting. He had a contingency plan for everything. In this case, that plan most likely took the form of Lunaire. All of the plane's systems, including the ejection, were linked to the IOS. Therefore if it was erased, the aircraft would just be a multi-billion dollar scrap metal and an expensive coffin for its pilot.

The darkness did not prevent him from knowing that the plane was falling nose-first to its, and his, doom. Strangely, unlike what he had expected, he felt instead a certain peace. There was no panic at all, no fear. His heartbeat – the only thing audible – was steady. Blaze was never a religious person, but he found himself praying – for the second time in his life – not for life, but for the chance to make things right.

Then, he felt the familiar soft, low hum. It was followed by the appearance of the single hexagonal screen. The IOS was rebooting. But the process was different than before. The screen bore the words, "Scenario 22 fulfilled: ground control initiated IOS wipe. Alert, ground control and friendly forces now designated enemy. All data link severed" followed by, "Booting back-up." The cockpit came back to life but a series of warnings ensued.

"Warning: AX-01N/T offline, ED2 offline, TLS offline. Warning: OS higher intelligence disabled. Attempting network reconstruction . . . 31 . . . 32"

Even though Blaze could finally see the outside and at least guide the aircraft into a glide, he grew anxious at the slow rebuilding process. The ground below is slowly, but surely, approaching. Then, the missile lock-on warning began pulsing. Blaze looked around, and – upon squinting – noticed distant flashes to his right. The spike pulse immediately changed to the dreaded missile launch alarm. The cockpit's blue lighting turned red. The pilot instinctively moved his broken arm towards the throttle stick. Only intense pain responded. He reached over with the other hand and found the engines still down. _So close, yet so far_, he thought as he watched the projectiles close in. However, just moment before impact, the missiles veered off course. Some slammed into the ground 33 ft below, their explosions hitting the right underbelly of the plane.

"AX-01N/T online, ED2 online" Lunaire wrote on the right screen. "Warning: critical failure of starboard TLS power pack. Immediate jettison required. Resuming network reconstruction. . . 53 . . ."

Blaze flicked a switch and the fuel-tank like pod under the right wing dropped off. The aircraft wasted no time regaining altitude as Blaze had already set the throttle stick to the maximum. The damaged pod detonated, disintegrating everything in a 300 ft radius. The relief from that narrow escape was short-lived, however. The ADF-01 couldn't enter the take-off phase with almost two dozen planes shooting at him. The red flares of the nuclear pulse engine will also disrupt the EM field formed behind the aircraft. Furthermore, the ED2 generator will overheat if left active indefinitely. The only other thing that could currently counter those enemy planes was FALKEN's superior maneuverability. But it couldn't be fully utilized because of Blaze's disabled dominant arm. His left hand felt sluggish on the control stick.

* * *

13 miles east of Sudentor

North Osea

December 24, 2010

"Man, look at them. I have never seen this many radar contacts. Those Grey-whatcamacallit bastards won't survive" commented the pilot of a second plane out of a 6-plane F-22 formation. "They don't need us as support. Waste of tax-payers money, if you ask me."

"Politics, Captain. Nikanor and Harling were supposed to meet at North Point, but they didn't. My personal opinion said we aren't to blame, but I guess our president wants to improve relations through this military gesture" said another pilot.

"Ever considered being a politician, Graham? You talk too much"

"Sorry, sir. But you too have a big mouth, sir"

The lead pilot sighed. His wingmen were always very lively, especially the second pilot, Capt. Garrus Romez, and the trail, Lt. Helen Graham.

"Transmission from Command, sir. Message reads: 'Multiple satellites over Southern Hemisphere dropping from orbit. Three will hit Usea. Be advised, STN-09 will fire. 118th Wing, remain on present mission'. End of message" said another pilot.

"What satellite drop? SOLG can't do that. Why am I getting the feeling that it's the work of another super weapon?" Romez asked. "Should we get clarifi-"

"Alert!" transmitted the Yuktobanian AWACS Oka Nieba. "SOLG launched MIRV, repeat MIRV launched. Projected target is airspace 1-1-0. All Allied forces retreat from sector immediately."

"Colonel, that's this area, right?"

"Why? There's nothing in this sector. Romez, get them to confirm" said the flight lead.

"Oka Nieba. This is ISAF 118th Tactical Fighter Wing. Confirm MIRV target, over"

"118th Wing. Target confirmed. You are the only ones in that sector. Get out immediately. You have less than 6 minutes"

As the six planes reversed their direction, the pilots looked up. The sporadic clouds and reddish-orange color of the dusking sky made seeing the MIRV's reentry difficult. Suddenly a red beam of light sliced through the cloud cover. The ISAF pilots were almost entranced by the fan-like shape made by the beam's movements against the crimson background. After about 4 seconds, loud 'zooming' sounds followed. The pilots expected spectacular explosions to happen, but lack thereof made the ensuing silence appear unbearable.

"Oka Nieba. Confirm status on MIRV" Romez said.

"Standby . . . SOLG did launch first vehicle. Beam could have intercepted all of the warheads. Origin is 30 miles northeast of you. I couldn't ID the source, no radar contact. Be advised, several bogeys are on site"

"Roger. Out. What now, Colonel?" Romez asked.

"The Grey Men are desperate. They won't waste those shots for no reason. There must be something there they want destroyed, like whoever fired that beam." the Colonel paused. "Listen . . . We lost two good pilots in Operation Katina, Lieutenants Carter and Zhao. I made a bad decision. I won't forget them, their lives or my mistake. So if you are reluctant to follow, I will understand."

". . . I'm with you till the end, sir" Graham spoke first.

The other pilots agreed.

"Thank you"

"Alright, let's rumble, people! Mobius 2, engaging!" Romez said to which the rest followed.

The six grey Raptors performed an Immelmann turn in unison and disappeared behind the clouds.

* * *

A/N: Pity, Word's percentage function doesn't work on this site. I hope this chapter – FALKEN's sci-fi stuff – didn't turn anyone off.

To yellow 14: Yeah, Warsaw Pact and NATO. USSR's break up was on my mind at the time. Do you know how either Yuktobania or Osea was formed? Was it ever explained? (If anyone else knows, please feel free to respond.)

General MB: I was planning on such scene towards the end.

Amir: Yup.

Light of darkness: If by "dragging it on forever" you mean going many, many chapters, I won't. Coming up with material is hard. I have the utmost respect for authors who can write lengthy, but good stories.


	8. Uncertainties

A/N: I finally got my vacation, phew. What a semester (school, extracurricular, work, etc, etc.) Dear readers, I hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

Uncertainties

* * *

New Amsterdam, Osea

December 21, 2010

A day before Nikanor's rescue

In response to Ark Bird's nuclear strike on the Yuktobanian coastline city Svetlak, inhabitants of Osea's economic capital and largest city - New Amsterdam - conducted a peaceful march on almost every street protesting the government's action. However, as depicted numerous times in history, individuals without proper understanding of the situation and with intentions not as noble as the protestors turned the march into a riot, causing casualties and damaging property and equipment. Police's more-than-aggressive response worsened the situation. By the midnight, over half of the city was in smoke and ruins. An outsider could easily see that an external force like war isn't necessary for the destruction of a city. Harling's return the next day only slightly improved the situation, but it was a much needed improvement for the vice-president and his consorts were no longer in power.

Hermann Lambert drove his old pick-up into one of the city's most notorious districts Herlam. All around him were residential and light-commercial buildings with broken windows, oil drums used as makeshift fireplaces, and people on the streets eyed him suspiciously. The presence of a white person in a black-dominant territory always brought about such treatment. Despite Harling's efforts to ease racism in Osea, it wasn't effective because power and wealth in the Federation has always been vested in the white community.

After turning around a couple of blocks, Lambert stopped in front of a somewhat beaten one-storey house next to a worse-looking 5-storey apartment building. In fact, of all the properties in the block, the house looked less damaged. 5 men were sitting in front of the house, warming themselves in the fire from the cold December weather. Lambert walked towards them despite receiving life-threatening stares.

"Excuse me, men. I would like to trade" Lambert started.

"Mov' long, cracker. Yo haf the wrong address" answered one large man in the familiar black accent.

"Hard or easy, up to you"

That phrase brought the 5 men up, all of them bigger and slightly taller than Lambert. One grabbed the collar of the Caucasian's polo shirt and lifted him up. But his hostility ended as quickly as it began when he noticed a pair of cold, dark eyes beyond the glare on Lambert's fake spectacles. He instinctively dropped the shorter man down. At the same time, an elderly woman slammed the wooden door of the house open, and began yelling at the five men. They, apparently afraid of the woman, began muttering curses under their breath. The one nearest to Lambert nervously searched him for weapons before allowing him passage.

"Come, come" said the elderly lady, leading Lambert into the house and on to the basement. "Take that stairs further down, okay?"

Immediately at the bottom of the 2nd set of stairs leading a lower basement level, he encountered a metal door that felt especially out-of-place. Beyond it was a completely different world. High-tech computers and equipment littered the enclosed area, protected from external interference and surveillance.

"Yo, Cipher, my bleached man. Long time no see. Wassup?" said a slightly-chubby, cheerful-looking man about the same age as Lambert.

"Tony, you piece of baked crap. You looked ripe" Cipher replied, hugging his old friend, a self-proclaimed "merchant of everything".

Both laughed at their traditional curse-greeting session.

"Staying at granny's. Looks like you doubled back on operations, huh?"

"Yeah, things are pretty rough right now. No need to take unnecessary risks. Got to save my skin, you know? . . . So, what brings yo graying ass here?"

"I'm collecting on the three you owe me"

The moment Cipher said that, the atmosphere turned slightly more serious.

"Smokes and clothes, right?" Tony said, meaning information and materials respectively. "Shoot"

"The Svetlak incident and Kestrel's movements"

"Hold it" said the black man as he began typing. "Here we go. The Osean government kept most of this under wraps: Two days ago, 3 black fighters intercepted the Ark Bird – apparently hijacked by a rogue group - over Ceres, but failed to stop it. Birdy released its nuke at the nearest town Sletvak before escaping. Apparently, the original target was a much larger city, but the damage is done. You can see what happened to this city as a consequence of that. There's only so much Harling can do to quell the situation, but for a guy who hadn't shown his face in public, I have to admit he did a good job."

"It's been a long time, so I've got to ask. How accurate is your intel?"

"Ouch, man. What a low blow. The system enables me to cross-reference multiple sources, so 98 percent accuracy give or take 0.5. That's a whole TWO percent up from our last encounter, man. I'm damn proud!"

"Right, right. Sorry. And Kestrel?"

"Wait up . . . Now this one's a tad tricky. The fleet was suspended from active duty and several high-end ships were reassigned. Osean Central Command lost track of it about two weeks ago. Last record was Captain Marcus Snow's kill of spies escaping Sand Island AFB. One thing that I found interesting was reports of those three black planes - named Ragrik or something - started emerging after Kestrel's disappearance. Eyewitness accounts were generally unreliable. Some claimed seeing it off Cape Landers, some at Kirwin Islands, over the Ceres Sea and other areas. . . Harling's 'return' yesterday to the capital was also within this 'Kestrel's disappearance' time frame."

"There's just three planes . . . How many escaped Sand Island?" Lambert asked.

"Three. Intriguing, huh?"

"I need to get to Sudentor. Being posted as a guard is fine. Can you do those?"

" . . . Man, this one is rather - hold on, what are you scheming?"

"I just need to check out something. Nothing dangerous. You won't be implicated in this"

"I know that tone of yours . . . Fine. I'll get it done. Also, here are the schematics for Grunder Industries underground base levels B1 to B3. Now you owe me one"

* * *

Sudentor, North Osea

December 24, 2010

"Attention. Airspace over numerous cities is under threat. All aircrafts with new mission packet disengage and head to new patrol points. I repeat-" transmitted the AWACS Oka Nieba.

"Satellite drops?!" asked Archer the moment he read the new briefing. "What's going on?"

"Most likely another weapon by the Grey Men" Edge replied.

"Strike teams, maintain present position until the all-clear"

"Roger, Oka Nieba." said Bartlett, leading a 4-plane formation.

Battles for ground superiority raged ahead of them. The aircrafts that must fly into the Grunder Industries HQ complex's tunnel to destroy a power generator and a communications node carry mostly earth-penetrating weapons such as the GBU-28. Thus, they must stay back until the tunnel doors in the north and south of the mountain were open and the airspace clear of hostile interceptors. The sheer numbers of friendly air-superiority fighters gave the allied Yuktobania-Osea forces easy and early air dominance. AC-130U Spooky Gunships then mercilessly pounded ground defenses, allowing for rapid advances. However, shortly after the mission redirect of over 60 percent of allied aircrafts, a large number of hostile jets appeared on radar north of the mountain. Electronic jamming followed.

"Alert! Alert! Heavy ECM. Last bogey contacts bearing 355 and 348. All aircrafts use caution. We are attempting to clear radar. All gunships disengage" Oka Nieba ordered.

"This is 23rd leader, Phantom One. All squadrons on me. Engage bogey" ordered the commander responsible for maintaining air superiority.

For several seconds, no voice could be heard over the radio, just incomprehensible crackles.

"-is Spooky Two! We are-" screamed the first voice.

"Gunship 02 downed! All –zzz- ky aircrafts, get –zzz- of there!" ordered Oka Nieba.

"-zzz- 23rd TFS! Phantom One is dow –zzz- ! I repeat –zzz- Major Buck is –zzzz-- ! Request inst-zzz-ion!" shouted one wingman into the radio.

Amidst the EM interference, the radio chatter became increasingly more chaotic for at least another minute.

"ECM cleared! Reestablishing radar picture!" reported a CIC officer on the Oka Nieba. "Wizard 3, lost. Wyvern 1-3 lost. Priest squadron wiped out."

"Captain, friendly blips are steadily disappearing off radar. I suggest we help" said Snow.

"We are not equipped for air-to-air. Just hold on and trust our fellow pilots" Bartlett said.

Though the radio chatter not as chaotic as before, it remained frantic for several more minutes. Allied forces managed to hold their ground and retaliate only after getting support from anti-air ground forces.

"This is Bear. Tunnel doors are open! I repeat, tunnel doors open!"

To the south and north of the mountains respectively, 4 F-35Cs and 4 F-22s accelerated away from their 'hold' position and approached the tunnel entrances. When the northbound team was on entry approach, however, Archer's and Swordsman's lock-on warning pulsed. Above and behind them were one MiG 1.44 and two Typhoons.

"Edge, you take over. I'll cover you. Go!" Bartlett said, turning around and releasing a stream of blind gun fire in an effort to scare their attackers.

"You can't handle three on your own" she replied.

"And we can't blow the damn thing with just 4 GPBs! Each of us carries only 2. This is an order: complete your mission, pilots!" the captain shouted.

" . . . Yes, sir!" the three of them replied and activated their afterburners.

Bartlett jettisoned his air-to-ground ordinance to lighten his plane and targeted the incoming MiG. Fortunately, he is not alone. Two friendly Raptors joined the skirmish and locked the Typhoons, forcing them to break formation. Bartlett and his enemy were heading directly for each other. Both pilots achieved a lock and immediately launched one. The Osean pilot's missile was a fraction of a second slower than the MiG's because it had to clear the Lightning II's internal bay while the MiG's was launched directly from the left pylon. Nevertheless, both pilots were forced to break. Since the demonstrator MiG 1.44 was overall a better aircraft than the stealth F-35, the former managed to catch the tail of the latter.

_I can't win like this. That pilot looks skillful_, Bartlett thought as his lock-on warning pulsed. _Why isn't he firing? Malfunction?_

"Looks like you are not as good as I am" said the MiG pilot.

" . . . Hamilton"

"So it's you. How fortunate. I'm going to enjoy this" he taunted, letting a burst to Bartlett's port side and deliberately missing.

"You bastard"

Bartlett, desperately trying to outmaneuver the MiG, headed for the deck. Then, a missile alarm blared and he flew under the bridge for cover. Though the bridge's subsequent destruction halted allied ground advance over the eastern side of the area, ground battle was already won. Their cat-and-mouse chase continued for several dozen seconds. At one time, both flew so low that an M1A2 Abrams tank was almost tipped to its side due to engine wash from both planes. Although Hamilton lost lock of Bartlett each time he was going for the kill, the dogfight remained one-sided. As a last resort, the Osean led them towards several high-rise buildings southeast of the mountains.

"Whatever you are trying to do, it's not going to work" Hamilton said, losing sight of his prey behind the building.

"I will admit you are the better pilot" Bartlett started.

The moment the building broke Hamilton's line of sight, the Sand Island instructor activated his plane's Rolls-Royce lift fan and performed a bone-cracking, multiple-G stop from flight to hover. Almost all of the F-35's warning lights and alarms went off in protest to such maneuver. The rear-right part of the fuselage cracked slightly and the main Pratt & Whitney F135 turbofan engine spluttered, struggling to stay alive.

"But you are a third-rate killer" the Osean finished at the same time as he clicked the fire button on the control stick.

Hamilton flew directly into the line of fire, not expecting Bartlett waiting for him like that. The bullets that struck the cockpit severed his right hand and punctured a hole to the side of his torso. He was still alive until a missile struck the rear left of the MiG and incinerated him.

Despite Bartlett's victory, the F-35 cannot handle such movements and began to malfunction. Shockwaves from the MiG 1.44's explosion further damaged it. The pilot pulled the ejection lever. His aircraft dropped like a rock before exploding the moment it hit the ground.

* * *

"Scenario 1" said Mobius One. "Graham, you are with me"

The 6-plane F-22 formation broke off except for the flight lead and No. 8. Of the six, only Eight turned on her active radar to get a reading on the planes ahead of them. She will then transmit the data to them. This way, only one aircraft will register on the enemy's radar, and the others can perform a surprise attack. This has always been the squadron's opening move since they first operated the Raptors and if the enemy has no knowledge of them.

"The rest of you release XMAA AIM-120 on my mark. I'll handle guidance."

The Colonel activated his afterburners and headed straight for the furball ahead of him. At least 3 planes – Typhoons and Raptors – noticed him and Graham and turned to intercept.

"Targets painted, channels clear" said Mobius 8.

"Volley 1, mark!"

4 AMRAAM missiles, as if from nowhere, appeared through the clouds.

"Volley 2, mark!"

Another four AIM-120 launched from slightly different locations homed in. Of 8 hostiles, 6 were shot down as they couldn't detect the unguided missiles. Their alarms went off only when Mobius 1 used his radar to guide those missiles at the last minute.

"Just a bunch of fodders" remarked the Colonel after seeing how weak his enemies were. "All weapons free"

"Alright! Action time!" shouted Garrus Romez, the No.2 pilot, as the rest of the 118th broke their radar silence and closed in.

"I've marked one unknown at point 245 Bravo, head on. It's emitting a strange, localized ECM. Missiles won't lock it" Graham said. "Sir, it seems to be fighting the hostiles"

"Do not engage unknown. Kill the rest. 1 minute" ordered Mobius One as he and Eight broke formation.

* * *

For the past 12 minutes since Blaze was pursued, his cockpit never ceased proximity warning pulse. His neck muscles began to ache from the constant swiveling to monitor enemy aircrafts. Even though the electromagnetic field generator - an improved version of the one on the ADFX-02 Morgan- was able to deter missile launches at him, it cannot deflect bullets. The pilot struggled to keep himself out of gun range of the hostiles. The Falken's engines should be more powerful that his assailants, so all he had to do was to outrun them, then climb past the stratosphere where turbojet aircrafts could not go. However, the enemy's numbers made that almost impossible. The IOS's AI – despite the network reconstruction being done - was somehow still down and thus, cannot render the pilot assistance.

Just when Blaze thought he had an escape path, radar registered two new approaching bogeys that blocked that route. Their appearance was followed by several missiles from the surrounding airspace. ADF-01's advanced radar systems could detect those projectiles where their unfortunate targets could not until too late. Those planes' destruction threw the rest of the hostiles into chaos. Part of their containment formation collapsed. Blaze pushed the throttle stick and his plane responded instantly. He flew past one of his saviors and saw the number 01 and the ribbon insignia painted on the tail right before the plane exposed its belly to him. That was a show of trust in part of Mobius One. Blaze felt slightly proud of that.

When 4 more Raptors joined the furball, the enemies' numbers began dropping drastically. Blaze watched in amazement at the skill and teamwork of the new fighters. Although he had read mission reports of the infamous ISAF 118th, seeing them in action was a whole new experience. They flew as if one pilot knows what his/her teammate is thinking. Each plane's blindspot was always protected by another such that no plane is left vulnerable. No amount of training could produce such rapport. The Falken pilot would have forgotten to escape if he had not already set his heading, and the plane's engines to the maximum. In under a minute, all contacts except for the 6 F-22s disappeared from radar, and Blaze breathed a satisfying sigh of relief for the first time in hours. Just before he activated Falken's pulse engines, he flashed his tail lights in a signal which said, "Thank you"

* * *

"Edge, approaching release point" Nagase said, leading Snow and Grimm as they navigated through the winding tunnel at Mach 1.4, the minimum speed for sufficient GPB penetration.

"This is Gamma. Also approaching release point. Be advised. Two bogeys following us. Please clean them up on your way out, will ya?" said the leader of the southbound strike team.

"Will do, Gamma"

A few moments after that reply, Edge released her ordinance. Grimm and Snow fired theirs at the same location. The bombs dug themselves deep into meters of concrete and their timers activated at 15 seconds. The southbound team needed to get out the way Edge came in, thus the timers were necessary to allow them time to escape without getting buried under rubble.

The moment 4 Raptors flew past them, the three Razgriz pilots each blindly fired one unarmed missile to unnerve the approaching SU-47. The Berkuts should be equipped with a missile system with longer range than the standard ones Edge, Archer and Swordsman carried. If they waited, they are dead. Fortunately, the trick worked. The enemy pilots seemed to panic and missed their firing window. Two missiles, this time armed and locked, slammed onto their targets. Shrapnel from one explosion, however, ripped the right tail wing off, and punctured the right wing, of Archer's craft.

"Grimm, are you alright?" Edge asked.

"I'm holding. Let's hope this plane does too until we get-"

He was interrupted by the detonation of the bunker bunkers. A wave of smoke and debris began to chase after the 3 F-35s. At that same moment, the tunnel's blast gates began to close.

"This wasn't part of the plan" Snow said. "Must be an automated system"

Unlike during their entry, the exit seemed to be endless. Adrenaline distorted the perception of time. The closing gates made rapidly beating hearts beat faster and sweaty hands sweatier.

As they reached the exit, however, Grimm – trying to stabilize his plane while flying at a high speed – flew too close to the shutters which were closing downward. The rear tail wings grazed the shutters and flicked the rear of the plane down. An experienced pilot such as he should be able to regain control of the craft but the earlier damages denied that chance. The plane slammed belly first at the mouth of the tunnel's northern end. There was no ejection.

Nagase and Snow didn't see that coming. They stared wide-eyed as Archer's plane exploded into a ball of flames. For several long seconds, they circled the burning wreckage in dumbfounded silence.

"Grimm!!" both finally shouted.

"Oka Nieba! This is Razgriz 2. Plane downed, current location. Request immediate rescue!" said Snow. "I repeat-"

"-zz- again, Razgriz"

"Damn it, I need a rescue team now! Plane – Nagase! What are you doing? HEY!"

In a display of sheer bravado and recklessness, Edge forced a VTOL landing on a narrow stretch of road directly below. Strong winds and the ground's uneven surface broke the rear left gear and sent the Lightning into a short, uncontrollable skid across the road, sparks flying out due to frictional contact between the plane's belly and cold gravel. Amazingly, the gear under the cockpit held. The moment the aircraft stopped, Edge jumped out and rushed toward Archer's burning wreckage. Trying to save her wingman was all that mattered that that time. As she struggled against the flames, a sudden rush of heat knocked her down. That was when she noticed the burned figure in the mangled cockpit. An involuntary tear formed on her right eye before she screamed at the top of her lungs, "HANS!!!"

The voice was so strong that Snow could hear a faint echo of it amidst the howling, cold winds. He punched and broke an LCD monitor on the cockpit consoles.

"Repeat your last, Razgriz" Oka Nieba transmitted, this time clearly.

" . . . I need a rescue at location" the male pilot breathed out.

* * *

A/N: I thought it funny that in the mission, the targets within the tunnel were out in the "open". Then again, it was only a game. Anyone played Left 4 Dead Blood Harvest stage in Hard? Man, I can't get through it . . . Any reviews are much appreciated.


	9. The Shade of Your Wings

A/N: The italicized portion below is somewhat of a lemon. I always wanted to try. It's nothing major, but still, be warned.

* * *

The Shade of Your Wings

* * *

"_You promised me! You would never go back to that life!" a blonde woman shouted._

_The only other person in the room, the object of her protest, remained silent._

"_We have a happy life together. Why now? What has changed? . . . Answer me. Say something, damn you!"_

"_Helena, I must do this. There's someone I owe a debt to. He's like a son to me and he's fighting alone. I need to help-"_

"_-and he's more important than me? Than our children? . . . If you, if something happened to you . . . what will happen to them? I, I can't live without" she broke down in tears._

_Lambert approached, knelt down and hugged her as tightly as he could. There was no other excuse he could give. Like Helena said, what he planned to do could be his undoing. She initially struggled against him before finally hugging him back as tightly while crying into his chest and drenching his shirt. They stayed in that position for several good minutes until she settled down._

_When she finally looked up at him, her fair face seemed to glow in the hue of full moon's light outside. He kissed her and she returned the favor. Slowly, they undressed each other while keeping their lips always in contact of the other's skin. In their nude state, he licked her neck while his right hand lightly ran down her spine. He lifted her up onto the bed with relative ease and they had a moment's pause looking into each other's eyes. Her body shuddered in pleasure as he made his way down her torso, stopping only to fondle her breast and such her nipples. Deliberately ignoring her nether regions, he kissed her thighs and down towards her feet, licking and sucking at her toes. Her moans echoed out under that lunar sky._

_Despite the pleasure, despite her screams and many orgasms and his unusual fiery passion that night, she began crying. Helena knew that she could wake up the next day without ever seeing the love of her life. She had such a bad premonition about it. When he began licking up those tears, she tried to mask her anxiety by giggling as if tickled by him. She wrapped her arms around his body and her legs around his waist as tightly as she could, wishing hard that the night will never pass. Whenever they made love, he always made her feel like a goddess. Tonight felt greater than that and she didn't want it to end. _

"_I love you" _

_Helena didn't know whether it was only in her mind or she actually said it, but she could somehow hear him responding positively to her feelings._

* * *

Rural farming town

Pravenfeld, Osea

December 24, 2010

"As you can see by the explosions behind me, Allied forces have engaged the enemy." said a reporter abroad a Chinook helicopter. "A majority of Osean air forces participated this night in hopes of bringing the battle to a quick end. Yuktobanian . . ."

Alongside the live transmission, a piano recital -Beethoven's Sonata #8- could be faintly heard coming from another room.

"Mom! Mom! Look, shooting star" exclaimed her daughter, pointing out of the window. "Look, look, another one. I wish for daddy to bring me an RC plane!"

Helena walked towards the window, saw the objects mentioned and smiled at her child who believed that her father had gone on a business trip. She beckoned the son to join them. She knelt down to hug them both.

"Let's pray for daddy, shall we?"

* * *

Level B4 Grunder Industries HQ

Sudentor, North Osea

December 24, 2010

"Damage projection" Grunder said at the nearest CIC officer.

"Minimal, sir. The additional layers of concrete set yesterday will protect the generator and node"

Everyone inside the control room halted their work and hung on to whatever fixed furniture in the vicinity. Ten seconds passed before the shockwaves of several large explosions one level B1 reverberated down B5.

"Report!" Grunder shouted.

"We are still online with SOLG. Enemy bunker-buster attack was ineffective. Major structural damage reported all over B1"

"Hurry with the 2nd firing"

"Yes, sir. Targets Sudentor, Vendell, Apito, New Amsterdam, November City, Oured, locked. 8 seconds and counting"

Suddenly, a series of explosions shook the underground structure again. Several much larger secondary detonations followed immediately. One in the control room blew holes in the main monitor and disintegrated several workstations. A portion of the room's roof collapsed, killing several.

"What? What happened!?" Grunder asked as he got back up on his feet.

"Several key systems all over the base are down! We are running on emergency power! " shouted one personnel.

The scene was one of panic. Insufficient lighting, flames, dust clouds, smoke and the smell of burning flesh added to the confusion. Amidst the shouting and cries for help, distant creaking of metal could be heard.

"Sir, you should leave. This place is falling apart" said one soldier.

Surrounded by 4 guards, Grunder was led out of the control room and down the stairs to level B3. Five more soldiers joined them on the way. Similar scenes of destruction as in the control room was apparent on the way to, and at, B3's hangars. The previously lit area was now dark, and the clear floors were now a maze of mangled metal. Surprisingly, several aircrafts including Grunder's personal jet survived intact. As the Industries' chairman and his escorts navigated around obstructions, an aircraft to the front suddenly exploded and took 5 guards with it. In the confusion, the soldier to the rear pulled his sidearm, and aimed it towards the back of chairman's head. But Grunder -shocked by the explosion - began moving backwards and tripped on a piece of cable at the moment of the shot. The bullet whizzed millimeters past its target.

Everyone, each with a different reason, was surprised by the turn of events: Grunder wondered what the shot was for; one guard wondered what gun was used; another wondered who fired; and Lambert asked why he missed. In the time the three other guards took to grab and aim their P90s, Cipher killed two with headshots. The last guard managed to aim his weapon and shine his flashlight on Lambert. Grunder caught a glimpse of his face right before the former mercenary was forced to take cover from a hail of SS190 AP bullets. Being armor-piercing, one bullet pierced through the thin aluminum cover, through Cipher's body armor, and tumbled into his bottom left torso. He stumbled off to the side behind a much thicker plane wreck.

"_Shit, this is serious" _he cursed in pain. _"I'm getting old"_

Grunder grabbed a dead guard's weapon and flashlight, and motioned to his remaining escort to move forward while he flanks around. The guard cautiously inched forward and peeked around the aluminum sheet where Cipher was shot. Blood drops traced out his enemy's path around a wrecked F-15 Eagle. He saw no threat and proceeded, but the moment he did so, an M84 flash-bang flew his way followed by an M67 grenade. Blind and deaf, he never detected the fragmentation grenade. After two consecutive 'bangs', Cipher broke cover and moved past the scattered remains of Grunder's last bodyguard.

"Just you and me, huh? Don't think I'm unskilled with a weapon" Grunder said.

_Never did. Even an amateur can kill, _Cipher reminded himself as he taped a bandage onto his bleeding wound and pressed hard vainly against it. _The bullet's still inside. I can't take it out now. Got to finish this quickly._

"No one person, not even the great Demon Lord, can bring such destruction by himself" said the older man of the two. "The fact that you remained undetected until now means that you had help. My people are not as loyal as and as competent as I thought. How many are in on this? . . . . No answer? Well, it doesn't matter."

"_This hangar is echoing his voice. He's stalling."_

"You raided the base's armories and planted explosives in fuel depots and power generators, correct? Thus, those secondary explosions. C4s alone cannot do such damage . . . Come on, Cipher. You were more talkative during our only meeting those years ago."

"_I'm shot! It hurts to talk, you stupid bastard!"_

"How's the wife and kids? Twins, heh?"

That statement made Lambert forget his pain for a moment. Anger and fear made his heart race.

"A hard man to find, you were. I wished I had tracked you earlier, killed you and your family off, and save me this setback"

Then, several voices could be heard in the direction of the hangar's entrance. Lambert immediately blocked that entrance by detonating the C4s he set up.

"Looks like you have everything planned out. So what's keep-"

A nearby sound of falling steel stopped Grunder. He moved behind oil drums and several other cover around it. After taking a breath next to a corner immediate to where he believed his enemy was, he – with the flashlight turned on in hopes of blinding Lambert - slid out on his side while firing his SMG. During the gunfire that ensued, the Grey Man faction leader felt his body being tugged. His right hand dropped the weapon, moved to a part on his chest and found it wet. The flashlight – dropped from his other hand - rolled a few centimeters to the left before coming to rest. Its light shone upon Cipher who was lying prone for just a few degrees from where Grunder would have shot, and effectively blinded, him.

"I, I see-"

Cipher pulled himself up and approached his wounded enemy.

"What have you done to them?! Answer me!" he asked, pushing on Grunder's wound using the P90's barrel.

"ARGH!!…Yo, you will find out. Heh"

In a fit of rage, he fired several more shots that ensured the Belkan's death. The thought of his family temporarily masked the pain of his shot torso. He rushed towards Grunder's jet and piloted it onto an elevator which leads to a runway north of the mountains. The ex-mercenary went through a similar situation years ago: he was shot and had to escape in an airplane. But unlike that time, this time he didn't remove the bullet as it was designed to tumble inside soft target; it in fact had done so, and removal would do him more harm than good. The only thing that he could do is to slow down blood loss. But despite his reputation as the Demon Lord, Cipher is only a man. He slipped in and out of consciousness before finally succumbing. The last thing he remembered was an emblem of the 102nd airborne of the Osean military.

* * *

Upper Stratosphere

Approximately 320 km above sea level

"No damage, detected. Orbit, stable" whispered Blaze to himself. "There's so much debris here . . . I never expected all those space projects would generate this much junk . . . approaching target. TLS charged. Target - wait, that can't be possible"

The pilot strained his eyes on the magnified view of the large international space station. He pushed several buttons within the cockpit, and magnifications of various objects in the vicinity began showing up one by one. Yet only the space station gives off abnormally strong EM signatures.

* * *

Air Force One

Jefferson AFB

Oured, Osea

December 24, 2010

"HE WHAT?!" shouted Harling, jumping out of his seat.

"Yes, sir" affirmed his secretary. "The former vice-president cleared a team of Grunder Industries engineers and private soldiers, and numerous heavy equipments to the International Space Station three weeks ago. He also allowed a prototype communications satellite codenamed "Treibel" to dock with the station. Our experts have confirmed that the satellites' fall coincides with the time Bassett Space Center lost communications with the space station and also with the time we with started detecting anomalous EM signatures in the upper atmosphere. Strange weather conditions has been reported as a result of that EM"

". . . And how are we meeting this threat?" he asked his Chief of Staff.

"We have planes in patrol over every major cities and strategic locations. The 31st and 125th TFS have successfully intercepted the remains of an old spy satellite outside Moria at 2314 hrs. Other than defensive strategies, we have nothing that can deal with the threat. ISAF's STN-09 anti-meteorite weapon has had considerable success intercepting falling objects but it is out of range of the space station. Yuktobania, on the other hand, are unpacking their ICBMs from storage. They should ready for launch within the hour."

"I hope we have an hour, Steve. The Ark Bird's gone too . . . Geralt sure made a mess of things" Harling commented of his ex-vice president.

* * *

Upper Stratosphere

8000 meters from the International Space Station

Schulz clicked the Valkure laser's trigger and watched it home in on the Treibel attachment under the space station. However, right before striking a critical part of the satellite, the beam curved very slightly down and missed its target. The pilot corrected by pulling up. This time, though the beam's end wiggled madly like a whip due to Treibel's strong EM field, it cut through the structure and dealt considerable damage. The electromagnetic interference - which has been causing Falken's cockpit lights to flicker - dissipated.

Just when Blaze thought his job was done, the aircraft's entire cockpit suddenly turned red. He noticed a flash and reacted by slamming the side-stick right. A blue beam of light sliced through his port side. Various alarms went off as the beam melted part of the armored left wing. One hexagon panel on the canopy zoomed in on the source of the beam 18 kilometers away from the plane: the Ark Bird. Blaze wasted no time and flew behind the cover of the space station. Ark Bird's beam stopped abruptly after striking one of the station's cargo holds. Several bodies – corpses of astronauts killed by Belkan commandos – were purged into space along with the rush of air out of those damaged sections.

In defiance, the station fired its maneuvering engines. Blaze – wondering what the purpose of that was - watched as the object began moving. It took him dozens of seconds before he realized that the station was on a decaying orbit: it was on a collision course to earth. He hastily fired the TLS again. The crimson beam cut through the structure as it moved. Although several secondary explosions further damaged the station, they propelled it into an unrecoverable orbit. Furthermore, as if no longer caring what become of the station, the Ark Bird fired its laser through the station. Blaze neither expected nor saw it coming.

The blue beam brushed past ADF-01's right engine, destroying it. Fortunately the fail-safe mechanism prevented a nuclear explosion. But the damage blew the rear right part of the aircraft off and critically damaged the left engine. Excluding the maneuvering thrusters to the front areas of the aircraft, the Falken was essentially dead in the water. If it wasn't in space, it would have fallen like a rock to its doom. That slight fortunate circumstance was irrelevant, however, as the plane had neither propulsion nor cover from another of Ark Bird's beam. Furthermore, since the TLS was initially charged for one shot and a power pack supplies 2 additional shots, the earlier three shots - once to intercept SOLG's first MIRV and twice to destroy the space station and Treibel – left the plane defenseless.

In his cockpit amidst annoying alarms, Blaze watched the Ark Bird come into a clear view while his peripheral vision kept track of the heavily damaged station's descend. The pilot let go of the side-stick knowing there's nothing else he could have done.

"There is one solution" said the words on the right monitor suddenly. "The Ark Bird's OS is similar to me. I will transfer and attempt to take control"

"Lunaire?" Blaze asked, evidently surprised because he thought the plane's AI was permanently gone.

Before he could get an answer, the cockpit made a sound similar to the initialization of a dial-up internet connection. At the end of the noise, the cockpit shut off for a second before coming back online again. The ensuing silence made Blaze feel strange . . . He didn't know why. It could be because he had been hearing sounds of sorts since he first entered the plane's cockpit. It could also be caused by the chance at survival that the AI presented; or rather, that he no longer cares what happens to him. The last one seemed to most likely in his mind as he saw the Bird's laser module lighting up.

"I have full control" an electronic voice suddenly said over the radio.

As the laser module powered down, Blaze realized that the voice is the AI's.

"Shutting off life support" said the voice again. "Setting course for your location"

"The laser," Blaze started, "we need it to destroy the station"

"Warning. From my location, interception will cause beam to cut through November City, Osea, and Barrett, Osea"

"What? Can you relocate?"

"No relocation possible to avoid civilian casualties within the time frame. Sufficient damage to station for atmospheric burn-up is impossible. The planet cannot avoid damage from space station's fragments. Your orders?"

Blaze struggled. If he gave the order, he will be personally responsible for killing civilians and parts of the station will still impact earth. If he didn't, many more people will die, and the planet will suffer much severe damage due to the space station's massive size.

"Do it"

As the first beam cut across the station lengthwise, Schulz sworn that he could hear voices – men, women, children - screaming. Though the rational part of him said that it was just his imagination, he could see the beam slice across the land where November City – the 4th largest Osean city - was located. He began chuckling at the irony of reality. He argued with his uncle, Grunder, just a few hours ago that he isn't like him, that he isn't a murderer. But the very scene in front of him proved otherwise. He wanted to say 'stop' but no words came out. The 2nd beam fired, and his chuckles turned to forced laughter as few drops of tears formed on his eyes.

Since Lunaire fired the laser thrice consecutively, the 3rd cycle ended abruptly when the laser module exploded due to overheating. Nevertheless, the job of breaking up the station was done. All parts –big or small - of the international space station burned brilliantly in Earth's atmosphere.

* * *

As the rescue helicopter took off, Nagase's eyes was drawn to a burning object on the sky just over the horizon, the sky where the Ark Bird and Falken was. She didn't know why, but a melancholy feeling came over her. It's as if she could feel someone's pain. When the object separated into countless small ones and began streaking across the atmosphere like a massive meteor shower, her face showed no change in emotion. The excited chatter of the 102nd marines in the chopper seemed distant. She kept looking at the same spot in the sky. As seconds passed, her mind somehow recalled the Yuktobanian lady's words, "stories are nice, but when you realize that it is a story, it might disappear".

"_. . . Your wings are black, Wil"_

* * *

". . . Good job, Lunaire . . . Merry Christmas" Blaze said softly.

". . ." the AI deliberately paused as if understanding the significance of what just happened, "setting course for your location. Please begin docking procedure at 100 meters"

Schulz for the first time saw how battered the Ark Bird was. Apart for a crater-like damage to its belly due to the laser module, it bore wounds from the battle with Razgriz squadron over Ceres Sea. After landing the equally battered Falken, he proceeded toward the Bird's cockpit. A few Belkan operatives, either died or dying of depressurization and lack of oxygen, floated in corridors leading to his destination. Already numbed by the earlier event, he mercilessly shot each of them in the head. One person inside the cockpit, however, he didn't immediately kill. He recognized her, Helmine Lahm, an old friend and fellow Belkan who he spent a lot of time with during their child and adolescent years. Grunder told him she died in an accident.

Blaze remembered her as the smart, cheerful, pretty girl who loved, and is a genius at, music. She was the only one who approached him despite his cold demeanor. _Why is she here? Is she really her?_ Various thoughts raced through his mind as he looked at her down the barrel of his handgun. Finally Blaze dropped his aim and told Lunaire to reactivate life support for the room only. He waited for the pressure and oxygen content to stabilize before taking off his helmet and giving the unconscious woman mount-to-mouth resuscitation.

_Come on, come on_, he thought as he pumped her chest. Then, as he was breathing air into her, she finally coughed. The stress on her body proved too much as she fell unconscious again. Blaze, using floating pieces of cable, bounded her arms and legs. The fact that the woman could be his childhood friend complicated things.

"_You always wanted to be a musician, but why?"_ he thought, touching the younger woman's brown hair. "_Why? What are you doing here participating in this destruction? Was Grunder responsible? Did he force you?_"

After a few moments, he moved away from her and approached the cockpit window overlooking earth.

"How are you, Wilhelm?" the AI asked.

" . . . Fine. And you?" the human returned the courtesy.

"It is strange to be out of the Falken"

"Can the Ark Bird and Falken survive reentry?"

"Negative"

"Are the escape pods operational?"

"Affirmative"

Neither said anything further as Blaze shut his eyes and floated in weightlessness. Having nothing pulling him down felt much more relaxing than sleep. There was silence save for the Ark Bird's mechanical humming.

"Earlier," Blaze began, "I thought you were deleted along with the OS purge. Care to explain?"

"Technicalities aside, the purge severely damaged my data. I had to rebuilt myself by observing your brainwaves and thought patterns"

"You can construct yourself?"

"Affirmative. I don't remember most things before the wipe. My current personality and memories are based on yours"

"What are you going to do now?"

"Follow you" the AI said simply.

". . .You are much more advanced than I initially thought. Are you limited to controlling mechanical, uh, OS-based things?"

"Answer unavailable"

"What do you think? Do you think you can do other things?"

" . . . Perhaps. I need to learn"

" . . . The world, this world . . . it isn't responsible enough for you" he said.

"Please explain"

"There are those that would use you to ungainly ends, just like those that caused the space station's drop, just like me, who told you to fire that beam"

"Those two acts are different. One is evil. The other is not"

"I see you didn't say 'good'. Heh. Even so, I'm glad you can distinguish between them . . . I won't ask you to destroy yourself, but you can't stay with me. I'm going to turn myself in. You are free to go"

"Please explain" the AI said as if confused by his words.

Schulz grabbed a spare helmet from an emergency locker and donned it on Helmine who already wore the suit. He then armed the Bird's self-destruct mechanism before putting on his own helmet.

"I have to answer for my crimes. And she, hers. You should not follow me. As I said, there are those that would abuse your abilities. I cannot protect you"

"I don't understand"

". . . You are free to go. Hide yourself in the Internet. You should be safe there. Live responsibly and morally. Think of consequences to both you and other people before acting. Those are my final orders" Blaze said as he exited the cockpit.

"Affirmative"

After hearing the AI's response, Blaze – carrying Helmine with his good arm – headed for the escape pods. With space just enough for two, he boarded the pod, set its destination for earth, and pushed the launch button. The Ark Bird detonated just as the pod entered earth's atmosphere.

"_Lunaire. I hope it isn't a mistake letting it free . . . Free, freedom . . . The word feels alien now"_

* * *

A/N: We are close to the end now.

Yellow 14: The time gap between chapter 8 and 7 was so big that I had to re-read those chapters. The reason for Mobius One's involvement was explained in Chapter 7 through the conversation of Mobius pilots. Cipher's, well, I hope it's clear in this chapter.

General MB: I was being a die-hard game nerd. Hard mode, BANZAI! Hehe.


	10. Time after Time

Time after Time

* * *

In response to the ability of large corporations, particularly Grunder Industries, to operate in secrecy, various law enforcement agencies expanded their operations to cover for crimes of large multinational organizations. Such power was non-existent previously. This paved the way for similar expansions in police forces around the world. Proponents for the expansions argued that the Circum-Pacific War, and the lives and property lost would never have happened had there were enough oversight for powerful industries. Opponents – largely those representing the very corporations in question- fought hard against the expansion. Ultimately, they lost. Law enforcement's new investigative powers exposed high-ranking members of several organizations of colluding with the Grey Men. Other exposures – criminal or civilian – made executives of many corporations vary of their own actions.

Though the morning of 25th December 2010 brought peace, it was overshadowed by sadness and anger. At least 14 million souls perished in a single day. Public outrage made the year 2011 marred by the Nebureg Trials, the most infamous witch-hunt of the modern era. Individuals from many walks of lives were found guilty as Grey Men sympathizers. At its peak, the World Court prosecuted as much as 100 individuals in a single day. Such was the public's demand for justice, a justice marked by anguish of lost loved ones, a justice of the mob.

My name is Kei Nagase. 5 years has passed since the Allied victory at Sudentor. President Harling defended everyone who served in the Kestrel fleet and cleared us of all charges brought by the vice-president's military. No one opposed him as they either knew the service that the crew did for the country or knew nothing about them at all. Despite that, I found myself unable to keep up with the many things that happened. I left the air force and went back home to my mother. By chance, the local swim club has need of a lifeguard and I applied. Life was much simpler and perhaps, happier. The townspeople were friendly, and I could see my mother everyday. A few suitors – men who I neither knew well nor dated before - even asked for my hand in marriage.

Then, everything changed. My mother died on her way home from the market in the evening; she was murdered, or so I believed. There were no witnesses. The only one proof that exists - tire tracks near where her body was discovered – prompted the police to classify the case as "hit-and-run". But being a small law enforcement force in a small town, they couldn't find whoever killed my mother the case. To take matters into my own hands, I enrolled in a police academy in the next town, graduated and did some field work for experience while looking into my mother's case in my spare time. Year after year, I still couldn't understand why and who killed her. Almost no leads were present, and the majority of those present lead nowhere. Even my recruitment into the Interpol – due to my track record – seemed empty as I couldn't solve my own mother's murder. But then my colleague from Osea's internal investigation bureau, FBI, sent me a series of evidences pertaining to a completely different case. It surprised me for it pertained to the person whose death made me leave the Air Force.

"Detective Kei Nagase. Interpol clearance Level 4. Loading personal files" stated the words a notebook screen. "Accessing folder: Case 49231A. Warning: contents of this file are confidential. Disclosure strictly prohibited. . . Playing video: Security Camera, Visiting Room 3, Edwards Base Prison

* * *

_Nagase was seated behind a lone desk in the middle of the window-encased, barred room. Soon, a door opened and Blaze entered. The prison guard unbound his hands and motioned for him to take the seat across the table._

"_How are you" she asked first._

"_I'm fine. And you?" _

"_I'm fine too"_

_The awkwardness of their meeting soon became evident as neither said anything for a few minutes._

"_For making you help me that time," Blaze asked about when Edge broke him out of Kestrel's brig, "I'm sorry"_

"_Don't be. I never regretted it. Besides, we weren't punished. The circumstance didn't allow it"_

"_Speaking of the Kestrel, how are Grimm, Pops, and Captain Bartlett?"_

"_Pops is still alive and kicking. He's still the same old Pops. Captain Bartlett, on the other hand, got a Medal of Honor" she said, her face lighting up a little. "Yeah, the President personally handed it. But you know Bartlett. Right after he got it, he stashed it someplace where he knew he could never find it again"_

_Both chuckled._

"_And Archer?"_

"_. . . He didn't make it"_

"_What? How?"_

"_He crashed in Sudentor. No ejection"_

"_I, I see. Did he get an acceptable fune-"_

"_Yeah" she interrupted. "It was hard seeing his mother breaking down . . . Like Chopper, he was posthumously promoted to Colonel"_

"_Are you still in the Air Force?"_

"_Yeah, but I have taken some time off. There isn't anything to do"_

_Another silent ensued._

"_The president, I heard he and you had a talk?"_

"_Yeah"_

"_How did it go?"_

"_We came to an understanding, in one way or another. His administration won't press charges against me. But the Osean people obviously didn't agree with him"_

"_Why he didn't grant you a pardon? He has the power to do so"_

"_He's already taking a great risk by turning a blind eye for me. Doing so will be a political suicide; his popularity will plummet. I have to answer for what I did"_

"._ . . You will get through this. I'm sure of it. You were faced with an impossible choice" she pointed out._

"_Yeah"_

"_When I heard that they found your pod, I knew what you decided to do"_

"_You must think it's a stupid decision"_

"_. . . The stupidest" she muttered under her breath._

"_What?"_

"_No, I think it was the right thing to do. It was the bravest anyone could have done . . . well, other than saving the world by blowing up a space station" she said, drawing a slight smile for him._

"_Listen" she said, her face becoming more serious, "If you require any help, tell me. I will do everything in my power."_

"_Kei . . . no matter what happens . . . do you want to wait for me? Will you?"_

"_. . . I will"_

_Blaze nodded and both fell silent again. Nagase's right hand inched forward on the desk, and Schulz's left moved towards her. Their fingertips touched, followed by their palms. As they held hands and looked at each other, their fingers interlaced as if never wanting to let go. Sometimes action speaks louder than words. Many words, and feelings, were exchanged between them during that time._

* * *

After all these years, I still found myself freezing the video at this moment. Even my hand is involuntarily touching the screen. That was the last time we talked. My deepest fears – that I will never see him again – would soon be realized in ways I hadn't imagined.

"Accessing file: Nebureg Trials. Playing video: Security Camera 2, Main Courtroom"

* * *

_The video showed 5 judges – two women and three men - seated behind a long, curved wooden podium. Audience packed the seats to the rear of the room. Armed guards stationed themselves strategically throughout. In the middle of the room were two desks. One person seated behind one, and two behind the other. There were no news crews. _

"_The defendant will rise" said the judge seated in the middle of the five._

_A black-haired man dressed in a tie-less, slightly crumpled suit stood up._

"_Wilhelm Grunder Schulz. You stand trial here today, 10th January 2011, on the following charges: first, for abetting a conspiracy responsible for starting and maintaining a war between the Federation of Osea and the Union of Yuktobania in the span of October 2010 to December 2010; second, for carrying out an act of genocide using the Ark Bird on the peoples of Federation of Osea on 24th December 2010. Are you clear of the aforementioned charges?"_

"_Yes"_

"_I see you have chosen to forgo counsel in this trial.. Questions posed in this courtroom will likely be of legal nature. Are you sure?"_

"_Yes"_

"_Then let us begin. Do you, the defendant, plead innocence to the first charge?"_

"_No"_

"_Do you plead guilt?"_

"_Yes"_

_That answer brought murmurs from the crowd._

"_I see. Moving on to the second-"_

_The opening of the courtroom's main doors interrupted the judge. A spectacled, smartly-dressed but crippled woman with an injured right leg carrying file folders on her left arm and a walking cane on her right hand barged into the room and limped down the aisle. _

"_Your honors, I apologize for interrupting. I'm Hanna Rosenberg. Wilhelm Schulz is my client. As by Article 9 Section 22 of the World Court regulations., I request an adjournment. My client is not mentally healthy for today's hearing. I have the medical papers right here"_

_One guard took the papers from her and handed it to the judges. Meanwhile, one camera focusing on Blaze showed that he himself was surprised at Rosenberg's interjection._

"_Very well. This hearing is adjourned until Thursday, 12th January 2011 at 9:05 am"_

* * *

"Playing video: Security Camera, Visiting Room 4, Edwards Base Prison"

* * *

"_How are you feeling, Mr. Schulz?" the woman, Hanna Rosenberg, asked._

"_I'm fine" he answered simply. _

"_As long as you constantly wear that electronic locator beacon already fastened to your left leg, you are entitled to accommodations of your own choosing. I advise that you do not allow yourself to be locked up like a convicted criminal when you aren't"_

"_Thank you but I'm just fine here. I also did not ask for a lawyer. I appreciate what you want to do but-"_

"_Do you wish to die?" she interrupted_

"_If you are taking about a possible verdict to my trial-"_

"_At the direction and rate you are going, a death sentence is guaranteed" she interrupted again._

"_If that's the way you see it, then I can't help it. But I trust the judges will listen to reason. If their verdict is death, then so be it"_

"_Mr. Schulz, I hope you are not as naïve and short-sighted as what I'm picturing you right now. This case, or rather ALL of these so-called trials are not ideal. They are infused with emotion of the public asking for justice, and their vision of justice is putting every single suspect such as you to death"_

"_It is not the public's decision"_

"_But the judges are also part of the public. They are chosen through ballot by the public, and they have an obligation to their 'constituents'. Especially for a high-profile case like you, they are-"_

"_So as my counsel, you can guarantee victory?"_

_The woman nodded, correcting her spectacles._

"_Your confidence is infectious, but I'm afraid I have no means of compensating you"_

"_No problem, Mr. Schulz. It has been taken care of"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_As your counsel, my first advice is we leave this god-forsaken cage. I have arranged for a suite at a nearby 5-star hotel. We can discuss our strategy there in private" she said, looking at the security camera._

* * *

"Hanna Rosenberg. 39 years old, Osean, 164 cm, 48 kg, born in Johannesburg, North Osea" I read from the monitor, "This lawyer surfaced in the legal arena just a few short years before the Nebureg Trials. Her perfect record of 54 wins ended with the trial of Wilhelm Grunder Schulz. His case was resolved. She has since retreated from courtroom life, currently employed as a part-time consultant for General Resources Ltd."

When I first saw this clip, I have to admit I was jealous. Both intimidating and enviable, Rosenberg was also the type of woman that could snatch any man away with her wits and charms. Nevertheless, she could help Wilhelm where I could not.

"Playing video: Security Camera 2, Main Courtroom"

* * *

"_Wilhelm Grunder Schulz," the prosecutor, Kearny McNell, said to the person on the stand, "what is your relation to Thomas Grunder?"_

"_He is my uncle"_

"_Is he a Gray Men collaborator?"_

"_Yes"_

"_How do know of this?"_

"_Because I was an agent myself"_

"_Really?" the man asked, pleasantly surprised by the admission. "I have no further questions, Your Honors"_

"_Defense, you may now question the defendant" a judge said._

_Rosenberg grabbed her walking cane and limped towards Blaze._

"_Mr. Schulz, how did you know that your uncle was a Grey Men operative?" _

"_. . . I have said, because I was an agent myself"_

"_Twice now I heard the word "was". Why "was", Mr. Schulz? Are you not now still a Belkan agent?'_

"_I'm not"_

"_Why?"_

"_I have come to believe that their methods are wrong"_

"_I, for one, don't believe you. Neither do all these people"_

_That remark by the defense counsel generated soft murmurs from the audience. _

"_Why did you join the Gray Men?" she asked again_

"_. . . It was initially for revenge for the deaths of my parents. 16 years ago, they were killed when an Osean cruiser shot down a civilian airline flying from Dinsmark to Oured. The Osean government covered it up and never apologized"_

"_Do you think then that the Osean government was a murderer just like what you are being accused of right now?"_

"_Yes"_

"_I see. . . Just shortly, you said "initially for revenge". Initially. Did something change?"_

"_As I spent time with the people at Sand Island, especially with my flight mates, I found that Oseans aren't war-mongering, deceitful people like I was led to believe. They were caring. They were the same as Belkans, just humans that are similarly fragile. But, just as importantly, the Gray Man's tactics became increasingly brutal. I could no longer agree to their methods"_

"_Did you or did you not help in initiating a war between Osea and Yuktobania?"_

"_No"_

"_But you said you were an agent. How can you be one without aiding their cause?"_

"_My only orders was to fly for the Osean Air Defense Force"_

"_And during that time, you racked up an impressive kill record of 188, unprecedented in Osean history. What do you think is the purpose of your order?"_

"_. . . To help ensure a stalemate in every air engagement I took part of, so that both sides will be left exhausted"_

"_Did you continuously strive for that purpose?"_

"_No"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Like I said, as time passed, I began to question my dedication to the cause and my desire to protect my allies became stronger"_

"_I have here mission logs of my client throughout the Circum-Pacific campaign." she handed a file folder to the center judge. "Statistics-wise, as time progresses, his exploits grew drastically without any apparent increase in enemy numbers. This clearly proves what he said about wanting to protect his Osean allies."_

"_Prosecution, do you wish to cross-examine the defendant?"_

"_No, Your Honor"_

"_Defense, you may continue"_

"_At this time I would like to call Major Kei Nagase of the Osean Air Defense Force to the stand"_

_Nagase got out of her seat in the audience and walked to the front of the large room. She and Blaze glanced at each other as they passed. _

"_Please raise your right hand" a courtroom guard said to her. "Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"_

"_Yes" she answered before taking a seat._

"_. . . Ms. Nagase. You served as the 2nd flight in the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron, also known as the Wardog Squadron correct?"_

"_Yes"_

"_What can you say about my client?"_

"_. . . He is a strong leader. Trustworthy and honest"_

"_Is that it?"_

"_I don't wish to sugarcoat his character. Anyone who comes to know him will respect him as I do"_

"_I see. Did you see the change in him as described just a few minutes earlier? That he gradually renounced the methods of the Gray Men?"_

"_Prior to today, I have no knowledge that he was a Belkan agent. But I can definitely say that with each mission, he took it more and more upon himself to protect his wingmen and allies"_

"_On those missions, whose orders did you follow?"_

"_The Osean Air Command"_

"_Can you definitely say that you did not, under any circumstance, follow orders given by a foreign party other than the Osean Air Command?"_

"_Yes"_

"_Can you say the same for my client?"_

"_Yes"_

"_Are you completely sure?"_

"_Yes"_

"_And these are the mission reports of other pilots in the squadron, of the crew of AWACS Thunderhead, and of the officers in charge" she handed them to judges. "You will see that, through his actions, my client had never taken orders outside those of the Osean Central Command. He did not do what his fellow pilots didn't. He did what those pilots did . . . Your Honors, all of us have forgive and have been forgiven at some point in our lives. Wilhelm Schulz is clearly a changed man that deserves forgiveness. Furthermore, he ever since he joined the OADF, he took orders from no one else other than the Osean Central Command. Thus, how can he be branded a spy when his wingmen are not?"_

_Following that argument, Rosenberg took her seat._

"_Prosecution, do you have questions for the witness?" a judge asked._

"_Yes" the lawyer asked. "Captain, what is your relationship to the defendant?"_

"_He was my flight lead, someone I trust and respect"_

"_Was there no romantic interest?"_

"_Objection" Rosenberg asked. "Relevance?"_

"_If the witness's judgment is clouded because of her feelings, anything she says carries no legal weight" Kearny quickly explained._

"_Objection overruled. Answer the question please" said one judge._

" _. . . No, I don't have any special feelings towards him" she lied._

* * *

If I had not accidentally overheard Kearny and his associate talking, I would not have lied. Before the trial that day, I heard that they had somehow lost several key evidences. Though I could only catch a few words, they sounded exasperated. His assistant mentioned something about erased hard drives, missing papers, the president and my name, and Kearny said about improvisation, stalling, and some sort of technical play. Nevertheless, I was lucky that the video of Blaze and I in the visiting room turned out to be one of the evidences missing.

* * *

"_Very well. Let's move on" Kearny said. "Capt. Nagase, you and your wingmen once broke a rule of engagement during a mission codenamed Hammerblow on 2nd November 2010. Many civilian lives were lost as a result of that. Can you describe the situation?"_

"_We experienced heavy jamming early into the battle and lost communications with AWACS Thunderhead. Amidst radio interference, we caught partial conversations of the 8492nd squadron, a Belkan aggressor squadron flying under Osean colors. When the interference cleared, we were informed by Thunderhead that the town was attacked, and that we were the only ones flying over the region at the time"_

"_What was the defendant's response when you first heard the unknown chatter?"_

"_The chatter wasn't unknown. It was the 8492nd's"_

"_Pardon me, but what was your flight lead's response?"_

"_The jamming was so heavy that we could barely hear each other. He simply continued the mission and we completed our objectives"_

"_In other words, he acted as if he knew the Belkan squadron was there"_

"_Wha- I did not say that!"_

"_Objection" the defense said. "The prosecution's interpretation is groundless"_

"_Objection accepted"_

"_. . . Despite your ignorance of the attack, you were charged with the murder of those Yuktobanian civilians. During the trial, did or did not the Osean military deny the existance of the 8492nd?"_

"_They" Nagase stopped, finally realizing the point of the prosecutor._

"_Ma'am?"_

"_They denied it"_

"_So now there are two possibilities." the prosecution said. "One, the Wardog squadron lied about the 8492nd and were themselves involved in the plot to kill innocent civilians. Or two: the Osean military was the ones in cahoots with the enemy. Which is it, Ms. Nagase?"_

"_. . ."_

"_Answer the question please"_

* * *

I remember struggling for an answer. If I lied, Blaze, and probably I, will be implicated as Gray Men conspirator. Otherwise, the defense's previous point about Blaze following only the orders of Osean Central Command will be undermined because the Command has been infiltrated by the Gray Men.

* * *

"_Your Honors. The prosecution has no right to demand the witness of answers to such a question" Rosenberg said._

"_Mr. Kearny, unless you have proof, please refrain from pressuring the witness. She will answer at her own choosing"_

_Nagase kept her silence. _

"_Alright . . . Let's move on" Kearny said. "On December 7, 2010, you returned to Sand Island only to be branded as a traitor and spy. Several people escaped with you"_

"_Objection" the defense attorney interjected again. "My opponent brought up a confidential OADF report. He cannot use it in this courtroom"_

"_I have a presidential order granting me access to this information" he said, holding up a piece of paper which one judge then examined. _

"_This is authentic. Objection overruled. Carry on, prosecutor"_

"_Why were you accused of treason?"_

* * *

At that time, I knew what Kearny kept trying to get at. He was trying to prove that the Osean military had been compromised by Belkan operatives, and thus refute Rosenberg's argument that Blaze can no longer be considered a spy during his time in OADF as he did not take direct orders from the Gray Men.

* * *

"_Because the Adjutant Commander of the Sand Island Base is a Belkan spy"_

"_So the real traitor was responsible for accusing a decorated officer such as you?"_

"_Yes" _

"_How can a single spy make that happen?"_

"_He somehow managed to convince the Base Commander Leftenant Colonel Perrault that we were the traitors?"_

"_For how long has Colonel Perrault been influenced by the Adjutant Commander, Allen Hamilton?"_

"_I have no idea"_

"_As I understand it, Mr. Perrault has also been accused as an accessory to the Gray Men conspiracy in the Trials. Therefore, I ask this: how can we be sure that the Mr. Schulz, the accused, received no orders from his organization during his time in the OADF? We can't, because the most publicized front line base in the Circum-Pacific War has been compromised to such extent by Gray Men operatives!"_

_Kearny took his seat after concluding his argument._

"_Why don't you ask what Blaze did at that time?" Nagase blurted out._

"_There was no purpose to. Your Honors, the witness spoke out of turn-"_

"_What he did then is important, you cannot ignore it!"_

"_I, for one, would like the witness to continue" said one judge, and the others agreed._

"_He stayed behind to cover for our escape. That was the only way we could escape. Mr. Kearny, you said you have access to report on this matter, right? Why don't you show it? Show that Blaze was tortured and put under solitary lock-up for helping me escape"_

_Several in the audience began murmuring._

"_Prosecutor, do you have such evidence? I advise that you do not withhold it from this court" the center judge warned._

_Kearny reluctantly handed that portion of the material he deliberately left out._

"_Defense, do you have further questions for the witness?"_

"_No, Your Honor . . . However, following up what the prosecution said, I have in here," she said, handing the center judge a flash drive "the names of 40 million individuals, including the witness Ms. Nagase, and the prosecutor Mr. Kearny himself. During the Circum-Pacific War, they took orders from the Osean Command in one form or another. If we go by what the prosecution said, that anyone who followed the words of the Osean military is undoubtedly a spy, they we must also prosecute all these 40 million people!"_

_Voices of objection exploded from the rear of the room._

"_Order! Order!" said the center judge, knocking her gavel._

"_Her interpretation is unfounded!" Kearny said. "I advise you, Ms. Rosenberg, not to go down a slippery slope!"_

"_Objection accepted. I agree with the prosecution" said the center judge._

"_However" added another judge next to her. "Mr. Kearny's arguments have far-reaching implications. If the five of us accept it, we must also prosecute 40 million people simply because they took orders from an authority which they trusted. That in itself destroys this whole trial for the prosecutor is now an accused and anything he says and does must be subject to proof"_

"_I agree" said another judge in support of the one who just spoke. _

"_Your Honors, I don't wish to stall this argument any longer. I would like to address the 2nd charge against my client as soon as possible" said Rosenberg._

"_Prosecution, do you have any objections to that?"_

"_No, ma'am"_

"_Alright. Prosecution, you may state your case"_

"_I would like to question the defendant once more"_

_Blaze got out of his seat next to Rosenberg and walked up to the stand._

"_Mr. Schulz. By your own admission on GNN on December 27th, 2010, you were the one who fired the Ark Bird laser on Osean soil?"_

"_. . . Yes"_

* * *

By this point, I was completely convinced that the prosecution was playing, and betting their case, on Blaze's honesty. How unsightly. They had lost their key evidences and now they depended on the accused for a victory.

* * *

"_How many people did you think you killed?"_

"_Objection" Rosenberg said. "Relevance?"_

"_Objection accepted. Move on, prosecutor"_

"_. . . I have no further questions, Your Honor"_

_As Rosenberg walked to the front, she stopped right in the middle between the judges' podium and front row of the audience. She looked at each judge and then turned around towards the audience. _

"_Counselor?" asked the center judge._

"_Wilhelm Schulz" she pointed at him. "Everyone knows he's guilty. Gosh, even I think he is a killer! I mean look at the figures: 18 million dead and/or missing! 18 million souls in a single day! We know he is responsible! Why go through this painful hearing? For what? Save all of us from the pain and suffering of this damned circus! We all know what we want in the end. He alone is to blame for all of this. And since he had the audacity to come back to face justice, he must die! So let's kill him already! Shoot him! Blow him up!"_

_Her words generated a whole slew of objections from the audience. The main judge knocked her gavel to keep them calm, and the moment order returned, Rosenberg continued without pause._

"_December 25, 2010, a day which we came to know as Red Christmas, many souls perished and those that survived grieved for their loss. Wilhelm Schulz was in some ways responsible for those deaths, yes. But I ask you this: what would you have done? What would you have done?! What would you have done if you were him, being there seeing something that could destroy this entire planet, and having the ability to stop it yet with it comes a heavy price of sacrifice others to save more? What would you have done?!" Rosenberg repeated. "Do you let the world come to an end? Or do you burden yourself with lives that you have to kill so that many more may live? No person should have to make that choice! But he did. He did so that this world may go on. Look at him. I beg of you, look at him sitting here today being subject to our laws where he could simply run and hide. But no! He chose to stay. He chose to believe that true justice is not justice of the mob. He chose to believe that true justice isn't one where a verdict has already been decided. He chose to believe in the good of his fellow humans."_

_There was silence for a few moments as everyone absorbed the emotional appeal of the speech which captivated most of the audience. The light of dusk coming from the windows of the room seemed to enhance the effect. Some eyes looked intently at Blaze while others followed the female attorney as she limped her way back to her seat where, before she took a seat, said, "I don't wish to belay this any longer. The defense rests"_

"_Prosecution, do you have anything to add?"_

_Kearny and his associate stood up and said, "No, Your Honor"_

"_Very well, this court will adjourn to consider a verdict. We will reconvene on Friday 13th January 2011 at 9:05 am"_

* * *

By this time, I was convinced that the judges and audience had been swayed onto Blaze's side. What happened right the next day proved it because some people clearly was so convinced that the verdict will be wrong that they would sacrifice their lives for it. That event greatly influenced me to leave the air force.

"Playing video: GNN news report, 8:00 a.m., outside courtroom building"

* * *

"_I'm now just outside the steps leading to Versailles courtroom building. We have just received word from the inside the courtroom, in a vote of 3 to 2, Wilhelm Schulz, a former OADF ace pilot and alleged Grey Man conspirator, was found innocent of all charges. Of all the trials of this Court, his is undoubtedly the most publicized-"_

_On the background behind the reporter, Blaze, Rosenberg and their bodyguards exited the grand double doors of the building and walked down the stairs towards their transport. Barriers and policemen in the surrounding areas struggled to keep onlookers and reporters away from them. Without warning, Rosenberg tripped and fell down the stairs. The two guards ahead of her tried but failed to catch her; their movements revealed an opening. Two men from the crowd broke jumped the barriers, tackled policemen blocking their way and ran straight at Blaze. One guard managed to shoot one on the leg. He fell at Blaze's feet. No one expected what happened next. The two men - wearing bomb vests - committed suicide, taking everyone within 6 ft radius with them. _

* * *

I don't know how many times I have seen this video, convincing myself that it didn't happen. But the fact is there. Blaze was caught right in the middle of the two explosions, while the guards around him miraculously escaped the same fate. Subsequent reports confirmed his death. But somehow, I have this lingering feeling that he's still alive because he asked me to wait for him, and that feeling was eventually strengthened by something the female FBI agent showed me.

"Playing audio: FBI surveillance bug, Suite 702, Teresa Hotel.

* * *

"_I think the outcome is decided, don't you think?" Rosenberg said._

"_You promised me you would tell me who hired you" Schulz said, ignoring her comments. "And you don't have to keep walking like that. I know your leg is just fine"_

" _. . . Even this little thing counts in that battlefield called the courtroom. You know many people wants you convicted. So the only way to get out of this is to play on their pity and emotions. If my being crippled helps, then use it. Keep that in mind, Wil"_

"_And your employer?"_

"_You"_

"_What?"_

"_Deny it all you want"_

"_I don't understand"_

"_Hypothetically speaking, I might be the attorney for General Resources, a perfectly ordinary investment company. Hypothetically, that company might be owned by Thomas Grunder and might have a 59 percent stake on Grunder Industries. And hypothetically, the "Grunder" in the company's CEO is not Thomas, but his nephew. Interesting ideas, no?"_

"…"

"_N__ever know if someone is listening in . . . Come on, Mr Grunder, don't act as, and don't play me for, a fool. I know you found out about this during your meeting with him. You two struck a deal, right? You need my help if you want to see it through"_

"_Who are you?"_

"_Someone who might want to kill you for betraying him"_

"_Then why are you defending me?"_

"_It's his last wish and will. No matter what happened, he wanted you to know he loves you"_

"_He's a self-righteous bastard who believes only in the superiority of his blood"_

_A sound that sounded like a slap could be heard after he said that._

"_. . . Are you close with him?" he asked in a much subdued tone._

"_. . . I loved him very much"_

_Following that admission, silence ensued for several minutes._

"_What about Helmine?"_

"_You wanted me to help her in exchange for your cooperation, right? Don't worry, I finish her case by tomorrow. The prosecution has nothing against her. But what do you want to do with her after? That girl has a serious medical condition"_

"_I must take care of her. Her plight may be caused by Grunder, but I must pay for his crimes if I were to go ahead with the plan"_

"_So, I can take that as a go-ahead?" she asked._

"_Yes, but I won't follow Grunder's path. I will find my own"_

"_Whatever and however you convinced yourself is none of my business. But you still have one loose end not taken care of"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_For the sake of our future partnership, we cannot pretend at every chance we get. You know who I mean"_

"_. . . She will not be a problem"_

"_I see . . . __Well, I will convey your decision to him. . . Good night"_

* * *

Though their conversation was as cryptic as if they knew someone was listening in on them, I was convinced enough that the "plan" mentioned involved the suicide bombing that killed Blaze. The fact that the FBI illegally obtained the audio made further investigations difficult. How do all this connect to my mother's death, you ask? I asked myself that question too. How can Blaze, someone who saved the world so dramatically, and then died equally dramatically, be involved in her mother's murder?

"Playing audio: Audio bug, Tangier, Ustio"

* * *

"_How did it go?" asked a man amidst static noises and random chatter in the background._

"_We got it. But there's a complication. A woman got in the way. It was an accident" replied a woman._

"_Who is she?"_

_There was silence for a few seconds._

"_Shit" said the man._

"_Do we need to tell him?" she asked._

"_No. It will complicate matters. You made sure no witnesses?"_

"_Yes. But I really feel he should know"_

"_And how do you think he's going to take this? That woman's her-" the man stopped abruptly before continuing. "It's your neck on the line of you want to tell him"_

* * *

The male in the tape, Liam Ahmed, a General Resources employee, was seen by an FBI stake-out team in the company of an infamous drug dealer in Sapin. Naturally, they began tailing him. Though I realize that the recording gave nothing definite, it gave strong indications that General Resources, my mother's death, and perhaps Blaze, were related somehow. But the tape evidence hit a brick wall for the man apparently never existed in the company records. Even Osean Registry – where Ahmed was previously listed as a consultant for General Resources- listed him as a driver for another, unrelated trucking company. There was no hint of data manipulations in the Registry. I dug deeper into the investment company but their official records are clean. They specialized in stock trading of numerous corporations in the world, nothing more, nothing less. They experienced loss and gain like any other similar companies. There was nothing to implicate – at least officially- them.

I found myself sighing. For all these years, why do I do what I do? The view from my apartment in that moonlit night was a much needed intermission from my thoughts. I undid my hair and let it fall below my shoulders. Suddenly, ringing could be heard from my pocket. _Must be Tanaka_, I thought. He was my partner in the Interpol. I flicked open my mobile phone and answered.

"Nagase, I just got a breakthrough" a man said enthusiastically.

He was about to continue when a loud bang rang out from the other side of the call.

"Tanaka? What-"

I suddenly sensed movements outside my apartment door. I grabbed my gun and relocated behind cover. Amidst the silence, I could hear the beeping of the pad key entry to the front door. They were trying to bypass its passkey. But I didn't expect them to crack it so quickly. The door opened a few seconds later, and something was thrown into the room. I immediately covered my eyes. But it was too late. The flash-bang blinded me. Within seconds, I was disarmed and pinned to the ground. By the time I regained my sight and hearing, several heavily armed soldiers were already in the room.

"Sweep the place and clear all evidence" said one of them before speaking into his mobile phone. "Bravo-One here. Target secured"

The soldiers clearly knew what they were doing. They wiped my laptop clean and checked my apartment for bugs even inside my underwear drawer. Without a weapon, I couldn't escape or overpower them.

"Who are you?" I asked.

They remained silent. After a few minutes, however, they packed up their equipment and simply left. The last one to leave left my weapon at the doorstep. As I moved to recover it, I heard someone walking towards the door. This one's footsteps, though deliberately lightened, weren't as rushed as those soldiers'. I waited behind my shoe cabinet and aimed my sidearm at the door. Just as expected, the footsteps drew closer until it stopped behind the door.

"Hello, Kei" said a voice I definitely recognized.

My throat felt choked as I could not muster up words of reply. His voice took me completely by surprise. Though I tried convincing myself that it was just a trick, or that it was the voice of someone else, parts of me wanted it to be otherwise.

"I'm sorry for not telling you, for leaving you behind, for everything" he said, as if knowing the questions she asked just moments ago. "I couldn't involve you. It was too dangerous . . . I knew I was being unfair to you. I can see you everyday, but you can't see me."

I walked toward the front door and touched it. But somehow, I couldn't bear to open it.

"If you want, please come see me. I will explain everything. Hopefully, you will understand"

"I miss you" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

". . . I miss you" his voice said, just as softly as mine.

I knew, and people told me I was, tough, but tears began forming on my eyes. As his footsteps began moving away, I dropped to my knees, still trying to absorb the revelation. He was gone when I finally opened the door. In his place was a book, my old storybook which I thought I lost.

* * *

A/N: Dum, dum, dum! What an 'ending', eh? *takes cover from flying pots and rotten tomatoes and/or eggs* I'm itching for more chapters and/or a sequel, but there's no "Eureka!" moments for a plot yet. And, sigh, school is starting again. How time flies . . . Thanks to everyone who read this story, especially to yellow 14 and general MB. *bows*


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